Falling Away
by Chaos Called Creation
Summary: Princess Mia and Michael Z haven't talked in years. They once had a love that they thought would last forever. Then, one day, things changed. Six years later, they're living completely different lives but one thing hasn't changed. Not at all...
1. life is better than we expected

**_Falling Away_**

Chapter One: life is better than we expected

A/N: Okay. So, I don't really know why I'm posting this when I should be working on _Crackhead in Confusion_. But, I can be very impatient and this seemed like an interesting fic, so I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter. (I had originally wanted to finish the fic but it's going to be long so now I guess I'll do what I usually do: post as I go). The updates for this story will be somewhat slow because I do have the other story to work on. Anyway, please review with your comments! =)

Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns a few of the characters but most were made up by me.

---

The familiar lights and buildings clouded her mind. But it was no longer a dream. Princess Amelia was finally back in her birthplace: New York. From 37,000 feet in the air, she began to reminiscence about her childhood and her teenage years. She hadn't been in Manhattan for so long and now, she was finally home.

"Ladies and gentleman," said the pilot over the speaker. "Please let me be the first to welcome you to New York City." Mia kept her hands folded neatly in her lap as she looked out of the window. The plane slowly landed and she suddenly felt thrilled that in a matter of moments, she would see her mother and stepfather for the first time in four years. Mia hadn't been in Manhattan ever since she left when she was eighteen, to attend a French university. And that was where she had resided until this moment.

"Amelia," Grandmere said in her raspy, aged voice. "Are you absolutely _positive _that you do not wish to stay at the Plaza with me instead of gallivanting around Manhattan with Adam while living in your mother and stepfather's _loft_?"

"Yes, I think that the loft is perfectly acceptable," Mia said, her eyes not on Grandmere but her good friend, Adam. He had inquired if he could join Mia in her trip to Manhattan, seeing as he had been planning to travel back to America, where he had been born and raised for the first seven years of his life (though he was born in California, not New York). Adam loved to travel but had sadly not been to his home continent since he was ten. "And as for Adam, I already asked Mom and Frank if he could stay in the loft as well and they happily obliged." Adam was asleep with his headphones still on so Mia felt perfectly comfortable talking about him. He looked so adorable when he was sleeping. And, thankfully, he showed no signs that he snored.

Mia was secretly thrilled that Adam was staying with her at the loft. She had been infatuated with him for over a year now, ever since they met at Mia's alma mater (but, of course, when she had still been attending the school). They both took the same Literature class and soon bonded over that.

He wasn't a royal but Grandmere was quick to approve of Adam. "He is, after all, the son of one of the wealthiest men in Europe." Mia found Adam Carrick to be one of the most amazing men she had ever known.

"You may know unbuckle your seat belts and retrieve your luggage from the overhead compartments." Lars stood up and retrieved the carry-on bags from the compartments. Even after eight years, Lars was still Mia's bodyguard. But he had finally settled down with one wife, a super model simply known as Natalie.

"Thank you, Lars," Mia said gratefully as she rose from her seat. She walked over to Adam, who was still sleeping. She gently shook his arm. She whispered into his ear, "Hey, Adam…We're here…" A few seconds later, Adam's bright green eyes slowly opened and he grinned up at Mia.

"We're in Manhattan?" Adam said, rubbing his eyes. He put his Walkman into the backpack he had brought onboard. Mia moved out of the way so Adam could get out of his seat. Grandmere watched this and sniffed, walking off of the plane with Lars trailing after her with all of their bags.

"Yeah," Mia said simply, grinning at Adam. "We're here…We're finally here. You have to meet my mom and Frank. Oh, and Rocky and Fat Louie!"

"Fat Louie?" Adam said, stifling a chuckle. Mia's cheeks turned pink.

"My cat," Mia said, turning redder. But then she said very seriously, "I love him more than anything in the world."

"Then, I'm happy that I'll have the opportunity to be in the presence of…Fat Louie," Adam said just as seriously, looking into Mia's gray eyes as he stood up. He zipped his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

"So, uh, shall we get off now?"

---

"MIA!"

"Rocky! It's so great to see you again!" Mia exclaimed, receiving a giant bear hug from her seven-year-old brother. She held onto him for a minute before she let go. She rose from her knees and hugged her mom and then her stepfather. "I missed you guys so much, too."

"Mia, I can't believe we've gone so long without seeing each other," Helen Thermopolis said, holding back her tears. "We missed you so much here…It just wasn't the same after you left for Genovia…" Tears started streaming down Helen's face as she held onto Mia, not willing to let go.

Not again.

"Helen, you can let go now," Frank said, smiling warmly. "But Mia, we truly did miss you around the loft. And we're so glad that you're back." Adam stood awkwardly by the side, watching them all take part in one of those personal family moments. He didn't want to intrude. After Mia quickly hugged Frank, she walked back to Adam.

"Mom, Frank, Rocky," Mia said, now looking at Adam. "This is Adam…my friend that I met last year at school. Adam, this is my mom, Helen Thermopolis. That's Frank Gianini, my stepfather. And the little guy--" Mia smiled down at Rocky—"is my brother, Rocky. He's seven now."

"Hey! I'm not little!" Rocky said indignantly, but smiling all the same. Adam crouched down in front of Rocky.

"Whoa, dude, you're big for a seven-year-old," Adam said, grinning broadly, all of his bright white teeth exposed.

"See, Mia! Even your boyfriend thinks I'm big!" Rocky said, a small smirk on his face. Mia's face grew hot at the mention of Adam as her boyfriend. Because he wasn't. Not that Mia didn't want him to be, of course.

"Rocky, Adam's just my friend…who, well, yes, happens to be a boy," Mia said almost nervously. Adam rose up and turned to Mia with a knowing smile. Mia suddenly felt nervous, being looked at by Adam's bright, bright green eyes.

"So, I suppose you'll be wanting to stay in your room, Mia?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, I haven't been in there for ages!" Mia said. "And I miss—Fat Louie!" Right at that moment, the one thing she loved more than anyone or anything in the world came out of her old room, though rather slowly.

"Have you guys been following the manual?"

"Religiously," Helen said. Mia took hold of Fat Louie and hugged him tightly. He had grown considerably lighter and his fur was slowly graying.

"So, _this _is the famous Fat Louie," Adam said, reaching out to stroke Fat Louie. Surprisingly, Fat Louie wasn't afraid of Adam. In fact, he looked like he rather enjoyed being petted by him.

"So, Mia, do you want to get settled in?" Helen inquired. "And, Adam, let Frank take your bags to the guest room. It's right by Mia's."

"Okay, thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Thermopolis," Adam said kindly.

"It's Mr. Gianni and _Ms. _Thermopolis," Helen corrected.

"Oh. Uh, okay."

---

"Mia! There's someone here to see you!"

Mia packed the last of her clothes into her dresser. She looked into her mirror and quickly brushed away a flyaway. Mia hurried out of her room, her gray eyes filled with curiosity. She wondered who it could be…

"So nice of you to keep in touch for these last three years, Mia," said the familiar voice of Mia's good friend, Lilly Moscovitz. Their friendship hadn't exactly been the same since freshman year, when a string of incidents had happened, resulting in a globe falling upon Lilly's ex-boyfriend's head and Tina Hakim Baba and Boris Pelkowski becoming a couple.

Mia felt her throat tighten as she struggled to speak. "L-Lilly…it's so nice to see you…"

"I'm sure it is," Lilly said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "So."

"I'm so, so sorry, Lilly," Mia said in an almost pleading tone. "I just…things were so…"

"I'm sure that whatever excuse you have doesn't make up for the fact that you haven't bothered to call or write in over a _year_," Lilly said scathingly, trying her hardest to be mad at Mia. But she couldn't be.

"I can't think of what to say, Lilly," Mia said, her eyes lowered. "I…I've just been so preoccupied and Grandmere's been putting so much pressure on me, I was struggling to get through one of my classes…I've just been so overwhelmed. And I truly am sorry…"

Lilly didn't respond. She looked past Mia.

"Um, Mia…do you know where the newspaper is?" Adam asked from behind her. Mia turned around and nodded.

"It should be in the kitchen," Mia said, smiling weakly. "It's just down the hallway to the right. If you're in the room with the oven and the blender, you're there. It's usually by the cappuccino-maker."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Adam said, flashing one of his bright, glowing smiles. Mia felt her heart flutter.

"Who was that?"

"Adam?" Mia said, turning back to Lilly. "Oh, he's just a good friend from the university. We met last year."

"Haven't you even wondered about us, Mia? Don't you care about your friends? Or are you too old for us now?" Lilly said, the slightest hint of sadness to her voice.

"Of course I care! How could you ever think that I don't care?" Mia said defensively.

"If you cared, you would've been at the wedding," Lilly said.

"Wedding? What wedding?"

"Tina and Boris's wedding, of course! Or maybe you were too busy to fly out and share a special day with your friends!" Lilly said nastily.

"Lilly! What is _up _with you?" Mia said, shocked at her friend's accusations.

"You say you care but you don't," Lilly said in an angry, hushed voice. "You don't care about me, you don't care about Tina, you sure as hell don't care about Michael…"

"Michael?" Mia said. "What does _Michael _have to do with anything?" Mia was hurt that Lilly brought up Michael. Mia and Michael had broken up back when Mia was a sophomore in high school. He didn't even give her a reason. One day, he just called and said, "It's over." Simple as that.

"Nothing…nothing at all," Lilly hissed. With one last glare at Mia, Lilly barged out of there, slamming the front door behind her. Mia stood alone, trying to fight back her tears. How could her friend be so _mean _to her? She hadn't forgotten about them! She cared! Of course she cared!

"Guess what?" Adam said, reappearing behind Mia. She didn't dare turn around.

Mia didn't want Adam to see her cry.

A loud sob emitting from her revealed everything.

"Hey, Mia…" Adam said, sounding confused. "Are you crying?"

"N-No," Mia lied unsuccessfully. Adam took hold of her shoulder and gently turned her around.

"Mia, what's wrong? Did something that girl say offend you or something?"

"N-No, of course not," Mia said.

"You're lying," Adam said, wiping away one of her tears. "Your nostrils always flare when you lie."

And before knowing who started what, Mia buried her face into Adam's neck. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Adam was startled but gently stroked her hair with his free hand. The other hand held the newspaper he had wanted to show Mia.

The headline of the Metro section was:

PRINCESS MIA RETURNS TO MANHATTAN

But the headline of the Entertainment section was:

MICHAEL Z OF MISSION FOR RECOGNITION AND GWEN BRODY—TOGETHER NO MORE!


	2. in our darkest hour

**_Falling Away_**

**Chapter Two: in our darkest hour**

**---**

"Michael Z! Is it true that you and Gwen Brody split?"

"Michael! Over here, Michael! Did Gwen _really _cheat on you with Julian Casablancas?"

"Michael! Michael!"

"No comment," Michael Z hissed into some reporter's microphone before heading into the club. The press really could be so damn irritating at times. Ever since his breakup with Gwen, he had been bombarded by even more paparazzi than usual. But, from what he had heard, Gwen was enjoying every moment of it.

He was about to do a sound check for his first show after his high-profile split. His heart might've been broken but he would stick it out. He _was _Michael Z, after all. "I can't _believe _the press," said his assistant, Kate Harlow. She was one of the many people that had gone out to Hollywood to become a star but had instead ended up as the assistant to the frontman of the hot, fresh new band, Mission for Recognition.

Kate was eager to serve Michael. Maybe a little _too _eager.

"Anyway, tomorrow, you have an interview with _Blender _at eleven and a photo shoot with…_Rolling Stone _at four," Kate said, writing down a few notes in her schedule book. Michael didn't respond as he made his way backstage to meet with the rest of the band.

MISSION FOR RECOGNITION—The Rockstars That'll Steal Your Hearts and Maybe Your Money Too

The crowd is bustling with animosity. Screaming girls and even guys surround the stage and speakers, waiting for Mission for Recognition to hit the stage. After five minutes of screaming and preteens shouting, "Michael! Oh My God! I want to marry you!" and "Max, let me have your babies!" the band finally walks on stage and starts playing their new hit single, "The Nonexistent Girl Finds Her Way Back." Which, by the way, doesn't fit the song at all but it works.

Well, they've certainly reached their mission for recognition. This hot band made their debut two months ago with their self-titled album. Michael Z's low, growly, and always sexy vocals will send shivers down your spine. The five-member rock band consists of Michael Z (who recently broke up with guitar goddess, Gwen Brody), twenty-three, lead vocals and guitar; Max Conor, twenty-two, lead guitar, background vocals; Shayne Osborn, twenty-three, bass and background vocals; David Richards, twenty-one, keyboards; and Kristen Taylor, twenty-one, drums. With their loud, catchy tunes, they may very well take over rock 'n' roll.

"These articles never get old, do they?" Shayne said, a smile on her face.

"No, never," Kristen agreed, reading the article about Mission for Recognition in _Music Madness _again.

"Take over rock 'n' roll? I thought we already had," Max said sarcastically.

"Look over here," David said, holding up an article about them in _Rolling Stone_. "Apparently, we're a combination of The Strokes, The Vines, The Beatles, Ramones, and Rooney…only better!"

"Oh! Michael Z is _sooo _dreamy!" Max exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

"Ha, ha, you're _so _hilarious," Michael said, rolling his eyes at his bandmate. It was amazing how much good publicity they had been getting over the last two months. Ever since their debut album hit stores, their fan base had grown considerably larger. Back when Michael was in his high school band, Skinner Box, things had been so limited. He had been young and naïve, after all. He had actually once written some corny song called "Tall Drink of Water."

But now, Michael was the frontman for Mission for Recognition, not his stupid old band. He hadn't been in contact with any of his old bandmates for years now. And he felt it was better that way. Michael had founded Mission for Recognition with his friends from Columbia two years ago. He had, before they recorded their debut album, decided to call himself Michael Z, instead of Michael Moscovitz. Moscovitz was just…not a last name fit for a rock star, he found. Yes, 'Z' left an air of mystery.

"Okay, so we have that in-store signing tomorrow at ten?" David said. Shayne groaned.

"Yeah, so you had all better get some rest," said their manager, Warren Semple. He had managed bands such as The Strokes and even The Ramones. Warren was all business and always said, "everything I do is for the good of this band so get off of your lazy asses and start practicing." They liked him anyway.

Michael looked out of the hotel window (they had the penthouse on the top floor) over Manhattan. They were finally back and would stay there for a few weeks, Warren had said.

"Hey, Michael. Are you planning to daydream all night or go hit a club?" Kristen said, her slate gray eyes lit up.

"Call me when you get there and I'll come soon. Maybe," Michael said, his eyes never looking away from outside.

"Lead singers and their moods," Kristen said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, before shutting the door.

And before he knew it, he was all alone.

After a few more moments, Michael picked up the latest issue of the _Post _up off the floor. He skipped that article about him and Gwen and flipped to the Metro section. That's when the day's headline jumped off of the page and into his eyes.

"Princess Mia returns to Manhattan," Michael murmured softly to himself, reading the article. "Princess Amelia of Genovia plans to return to her birthplace today. When asked why she wished to return, she joked that she wanted to 'save the whales.'" Knowing Mia, she probably wasn't joking.

Mia. How could Mia be back in New York? They had broken up back when Michael was a freshman in college. After he had broken up with her, he had instantly regretted it and almost called her back. But he didn't. Michael didn't know why he didn't. He should've.

No, _no. _It was better that they had broken up. Wasn't it?

Michael took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Kristen.

"Hey, I'll meet you guys at Penguin."

---

"It's so great to be back…back home," Mia said softly, putting on her coat. "I was planning to go to this new club that just opened. It's called Penguin or something like that. Want to come?" Adam ran a hand through his hair. Mia felt her heart flutter as his bright green eyes met her own gray ones.

"Sure, sounds fun," Adam said, his hair flopping onto his right eye. Mia became exceedingly more nervous.

"Okay, I'll ask Lars to call the limo," Mia said. She was about to pick up the phone when Adam put his hand on her wrist. Mia's eyes widened slightly. He said, "Why don't we walk? And on the way to the club, you can point out the…I don't know, important parts of the city?" She felt her cheeks grow pink.

"Uh, okay," Mia said, putting the phone back down. Adam let his hand linger on her wrist a few longer before pulling away though, Mia noticed, he did it rather reluctantly. She felt chills rush up her spine.

"Let me go get my jacket," Adam said. He left for a moment before returning, her favorite black jacket of his on. He was just absolutely perfect. And Adam was a vegetarian too! Nothing could get much better than that.

They both left the loft. The chilly winter air hit them both like a tidal wave.

"It's so cold out here," Mia said, wishing that she had chosen to wear another, bigger jacket.

"Yeah, is it always this cold here?" Mia nodded her head.

"Oh! There's the park where I always used to go to," Mia said excitedly, scanning the familiar playground and trees. "And there's the fountain where Lilly and I always used to tape her show from."

"Lilly?" Adam said, sounding confused.

"Oh, you know that…girl that was at the loft yesterday?" Mia said. Adam nodded. "Yeah, well, that was Lilly."

"And you say she was your best friend?" Adam said, rubbing his hands together.

"Yes, the operative word being _was_," Mia said. "But it just changed when we were freshmen. She sort of dumped her boyfriend, Boris, because she was a 'slave to her own lust' and started dating this guy from Nepal, Jangbu. There was this big boycott and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to go to the prom with Mi—" Mia stopped before she could go any farther.

"Who?" Adam said, blinking his gorgeous green eyes.

"Oh," Mia said, turning red. "No one."

"It doesn't sound like no one, Mia."

"Just my boyfriend. Or, rather, ex-boyfriend now."

"And what was this boyfriend's name?" Adam inquired curiously.

"Um. Michael," Mia said softly, not wanting to talk about Michael. He was in the past and now, well, now he wasn't her boyfriend anymore.

"Why'd you guys break up?" Adam said, not catching the hint that she didn't want to talk about it. But Mia didn't want to come off as cold to Adam. No, she liked him.

"He…He didn't love me anymore," Mia said even more softly, her eyes averted.

Now he got the hint.

---

"Dude, what took you so long to get here?"

"Well, _dude_, I was writing a song called, 'Where the fuck is my leather jacket?'"

"I can see you found it," Max said, taking a sip of his Cristal.

"_Obviously_," Michael said angrily. He walked over to the bar.

"What will you have?" The bartender, a woman with long blonde hair that looked to be in her mid-twenties, asked.

"Jack Daniel's," Michael growled. The bartender, Sheena, filled up a glass and handed it to Michael.

"Hey, aren't you…" Michael walked away before she could finish her sentence.

"Rude, much?" Sheena exclaimed. Michael merely flipped her off and walked over to David and Shayne.

"Oh, what do you know?" Shayne said as a song that began with heavy drumming played. It was Mission for Recognition's first single, "Reoccurring Kind." Michael cringed as he listened to his voice blaring through the speakers throughout the club.

"Oh, my God! Can I have your autograph?" Michael turned around and saw a short brunette with a pen and paper in hand. Michael looked her straight in the eye.

"Sure," Michael said, smiling slightly. "What's your name?"

"Mia," The girl said eagerly. He quickly signed 'Michael Z' onto the piece of paper.

"Here…Mia," Michael said, giving the girl the autograph. Mia squealed and ran off to brag to her friends.

The music suddenly stopped and someone's voice came over the speakers.

"It has come to our attention that the band, Mission for Recognition, is here!"

"Shit," Michael said under his breath.

"And we at Penguin know how you all love Mission for Recognition! Let's try to convince them to play a song for us!"

"Fuck, let's make a run for it," Shayne whispered to Michael, a half-smile on her face. Michael thought better about it.

"No, if a show's what they want, let's give them a show," Michael said, smirking. He downed the rest of his drink and headed for the stage.

"Mis-sion for Recog-nition!" The crowd chanted. When Michael reached the stage, the crowd became even louder, which Michael hadn't thought possible. The rest of the band trailed after him.

"OH MY GOD! THAT'S MICHAEL Z!" Michael heard some girl scream. The instruments had already been set up for another band, Michael guessed, but it would do just fine.

"Hey," Michael growled into the microphone. "We are Mission for Recognition. You guys might've heard of us." The crowd started screaming incessantly. "I guess we'll be playing—" Michael turned to face his bandmates with a broad grin and turned back to the audience—"our latest single, 'The Nonexistent Girl Finds Her Way Back.'"

"One, two, three, four!" Kristen yelled over the crowd's shouting.

Time to go back to the way we finished

Whisper of your wondering ways

No lies should surround us

Painful regret makes us stronger

Longing memories keep me close

Mia entered Penguin, Adam by her side. They walked into the crowd when Adam suddenly exclaimed, "Mia! It's Mission for Recognition!"

"What? Who?" Mia said, confused.

"I can't believe it! They weren't scheduled to play here!" Mia realized that Adam was talking about the band.

"Well, I've never heard of them until now," Mia said honestly, trying to actually see the band. They were standing in the middle of the crowd, a plethora of girls jumping up and down and squealing in front of them.

_And you should know why _

_We're all getting hurt_

_But you don't care_

_No, you don't care_

_Make me what you want me to be_

_The perfect clothes, hair, and body_

_Aren't you tired of living in deception?_

_Are you tired of me?_

_Are you tired of me?_

_Well, the nonexistent girl_

_She never knew exactly_

_The way she felt inside_

_Because she thought_

_She had so many things to hide_

Mia watched as the lead singer's head dropped. The crowd went absolutely crazy, screaming for more.

"Mis-sion for Recog-nition! Mis-sion for Recog-nition!" Mia found it nauseating.

"That'll be all for tonight," Michael said quietly into the microphone, leaving the crowd in awe as he stepped off the stage. The rest of the band looked slightly confused but followed after him. Michael made his way through the crowd, a few girls attempting to hug them. Michael had never been one to be downright rude so he hugged a few of them back. He was walking through the middle of the crowd when he walked right into Mia.

They fell to the ground, Michael on top of Mia.

"Oh, sorry," Michael said, his breath trickling down Mia's neck. Mia looked Michael straight in the eye, not realizing that it was him…Michael Moscovitz…

"No, no. I shouldn't have…um…can you get off of me? You're kind of crushing my leg…"

"What? Oh! Oh, yeah, sorry again," Michael said. He rose from Mia and when he stood, offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her up.

"Well, 'bye then," Mia said, looking down at her feet.

"Yeah. 'Bye." And then he left, Shayne and Max snickering as they followed.

"Mia!" Adam said loudly, causing Mia to jump. "You just bumped into _Michael Z_! Isn't that _insane_?"

"Y-Yeah," Mia said. "Insane."

_Was that who I think it was? _


	3. the dark outside can't hurt you

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Three: the dark outside can't hurt you

A/N: Uh, what to say? This story may eventually be Rated R and there _will _be a plethora of curse words. So, if you're offended by cursing or sexual references, please stop reading this story. But if you're fine with both (the sexual references will be brief, mind you…hopefully), please continue reading and review. =)

Oh, by the way, this story will basically be made up of the present and the past. In other words, it'll document what's happening to Mia in the present (in this story, anyway) and there will be memories scattered throughout the whole story as well as newspaper articles, letters, and other such things.

---

It was a perfectly crisp, autumn day. Mia found herself staying inside even though it was pleasantly warm outside. She was working on an article for Albert Einstein High School's newspaper, TheAtom_. The former editor-in-chief had graduated the previous year, along with Mia's boyfriend, Michael. Melanie Greenbaum was the new editor and Mia found her to be extremely intimidating. But she was no longer on the cafeteria beat. No, she had been asked to write a string of articles for the newspaper, seeing as how most of the good writers had graduated the previous year._

Okay, so she wasn't only staying inside to write her article. Mia was eagerly waiting for her college freshman boyfriend to call. He had promised to call her sometime that day. But so far, only Grandmere had called, to tell Mia that there was a ball she had to attend in two weeks and that they would go shopping tomorrow. But no Michael. Not even an e-mail.

So when the phone finally rang, she jumped about a half-mile just to pick it up.

"Hello?" Mia said breathlessly, crossing her fingers. It had to be Michael. It just had _be._

"Hi, Mia." It was Michael! He sounded oddly formal, Mia noticed.

"Hi, Michael," Mia said. This followed with an awkward pause.

"Mia, we need to talk," Michael said, still sounding stiff.

"Uh…okay," Mia said, nervous now. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I…" Michael said, pausing. "I think we should break up."

Those six words hit Mia like a tidal wave. Had he said what she thought he had said? He wanted to…he wanted to break up? But why? They were perfectly happy with each other. Of course they were…they were in love.

Weren't they?

"Mia? Are you still there?"

"I-I…did you say what…what I think you just said?" Mia said, her voice choked up. She felt hot tears already forming in her usually bright gray eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Mia," Michael said softly. There was a click and he was gone.

Mia dropped the phone and sat, shaking. Her blood ran cold as she shook, tears streaming down her eyes.

"But I love you…" Mia whispered softly before dropping to the floor, sobs escaping from her lips.

---

It really _was _him. Mia listened to Michael's mellifluous voice through her headphones, her eyes shut. It was so painful hearing him sing but she couldn't stop. Not talking to Michael for six years, not hearing his voice for six years…Seeing him after so long, hearing him after so long…it hurt so much but it felt so good.

The previous night, after they had gotten back from Penguin, Mia had asked to borrow Adam's Mission for Recognition album. He had happily obliged and Mia had been listening to it on repeat ever since. The band's music was so different from that of Michael's high school band, Skinner Box. The lyrics were deeper…the music was louder.

And Michael's voice was different. Somehow deeper. Stronger…Sexier?

No, no. It was just…different.

_You are never dead when you're dead _

_You're never dead when you're sleeping_

_You make it so hard to love_

_But not impossible_

_Never impossible_

Mia opened her eyes and her cheeks flushed crimson. Adam had been watching her with his deep emerald green eyes. "If your eyes should ever rain, I'll be the one to catch your tears," Adam said, looking Mia straight in the eye. She looked bemused for a moment but then she heard Michael say the exact same thing. Mia turned off her Walkman and smiled lazily.

"So, what do you think?" Adam said, indicating the CD. Mia's head tilted, a half-smile on her face.

"It's amazing," Mia said, looking down at her cereal.

"I'm glad you think so," Adam said, taking a muffin from the center of the table.

"Adam, Z isn't really Michael's name, is it?" Mia inquired, shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She noticed, her cheeks turning even redder, that Adam was staring at her mouth.

"No, of course not. His real name is Mochasitz or something like that."

"Moscovitz?" Mia said, nearly choking on her cereal. Adam raised a well-arched eyebrow, a playful look in her eyes.

"Yeah, I think that's it," Adam said. "How did you know?"

"I…uh, lucky guess?" Mia said.

"Okay then," Adam said, taking a bite of his blueberry muffin. "So, what shall we do today, Princess? Any royal balls to attend? Need an escort?" Mia laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"We can do whatever you want to do," Mia said.

"Uh…" Adam said, turning pink. "To be honest, I don't think you would want to do what I want to do."

"And what is that?"

"Make out in a janitor's closet. Have rough, passionate sex in some trashy motel." Adam said this so seriously that Mia did choke on her cereal that time. Her cheeks must've been as red as a tomato, she thought. But then he burst out with laughter, causing Mia to laugh weakly.

"You looked about ready to burst," Adam said, through his laughs. But he didn't say that he had been kidding. Mia watched as Adam continued laughing, his dark hair flopping into his beautiful eyes.

"Let's go to Central Park or something," Mia said after he had stopped laughing.

"Okay."

---

"Welcome to the Plaza!"

"Uh, thanks," Michael said, blinking. "I guess." The record company had decided to send Mission for Recognition over to the Plaza for some unknown reason. Michael had never actually been to the Plaza, and he hadn't been planning to either. The concierge handed him a fruit basket and told him what suite number the room was.

"Pretty trippy," Kristen said, looking around.

Michael was looking through the contents of the basket when he heard a raspy, eerily familiar voice.

"Amelia, I do not _care _if you're off showing Adam Manhattan! You _must _attend this ball!" Michael froze and turned his head slightly. Clarisse Renaldo, a bodyguard at her side, stood with a cell phone to her ear.

"Adam can stay at the loft, Amelia." _Who's Adam?_, Michael thought. He looked down at his feet.

"Yes, I will be there soon. I must go to the spa first…I'm having a body wrap." Clarisse noticed the five leather jacket wearing, floppy haired band mates and sniffed. Michael rolled his eyes. Clarisse had never liked Michael much.

"Let's go up," Michael said, heading for the elevator.

Mia and Adam walked along the path in Central Park. The wind was blowing gently as the sun shined down on them both. Mia bit off the end of her vegetarian corn dog, her eyes on the ground as they walked. They didn't speak; their occasional looks at each other expressed everything.

Mia heard gentle humming and looked over at Adam. He felt her eyes on him and turned to meet her gaze. He grinned, his eyes sparkling. Mia smiled back before looking back down at the ground. Adam cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak.

"Mia…"

"Yes?" Mia said softly.

"What…what are we?"

"What do you mean?" Mia inquired, genuinely baffled. She looked up at Adam.

"Are we friends?…Going out? Together?" Adam said hesitantly. His eyes were nervous, she could tell.

"I…I…" Adam turned bright red.

"I-I mean, it's okay if you don't like me in that way but I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Adam…Of course I like you," Mia said, shyly.

"What? Really?" Adam said, looking surprised. Mia nodded her head.

"To be honest, I've liked you ever since I met you," Mia said. Her eyes widened and she suddenly realized that it wasn't like her _at all _to admit her feelings for a guy in such a carefree manner. There was a pause. Adam gently grabbed Mia's free hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. Mia closed her eyes. His big, rough hand felt so nice against her smaller, softer one.

Mia looked at their hands and smiled. They stopped walking and Adam lifted Mia's head by her chin. He cupped her face, his eyes never leaving hers, and pressed his mouth against Mia's. Mia's eyes closed and she felt so warm with Adam's soft lips against hers. He smelled like coffee and burnt leaves.

She never wanted this to end.

---

**A/N: **Okay, so, I'm kind of weirded out. My writing style used to be much, much better than it is now. It was once amazing detailed and organized, sophisticated even. Maybe my long break from writing ruined my style. This sucks.


	4. the girl in between

Chapter Four: the girl in between

A/N: This may or may not eventually be Michael/Mia. Who knows? Even _I _don't. I had a surprising ending planned for much later but now I don't know if I could go through with it. Well, here's to this story not sucking too badly. Enjoy!

Oh, and to get a good visual of Adam, think of a mix of three guys: Adam Brody, Carrick from EBE, and Chris Marquette. (And I actually took the name 'Adam' from his character on Joan of Arcadia. What can I say?)

I don't own the song "I Love How You Love Me."

---

The sun hadn't yet appeared. Mia lay awake in her bed, so many thoughts running through her mind. Soft breaths escaped from her lips as she tried to fall asleep. Every time she even tried to fall into slumber, Adam's face seemed to cloud her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about him and, quite honestly, she didn't want to stop.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Michael either. He had been her first love and now, well, now he was rich and famous. He probably hadn't recognized her that night. Maybe he had forgotten all about her and how they had…how they had been in _love_. Michael no longer had that boyish look. Mia was surprised at how different he looked, yet, somehow, he looked the same, just older. His dark brown hair was longer; five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and chin. He was the same height, just lankier than he used to be.

After a few long moments of thinking, Mia decided to go see if Adam was awake. She knew that he was a light sleeper and that he could also function on a mere four hours of sleep. She got out of a bed and very quietly left her room. The door to the guest room was closed but not locked. Mia stepped softly inside and saw Adam sleeping, his hair tousled and flopping neatly onto his closed eyes. Mia walked over to him and bent down, kissing Adam's cheek.

"…Mia?" Adam said sleepily, his eyes still closed. Mia reached out and brushed Adam's hair away from his eyes.

"Hey, you," Mia whispered. "Do you mind if I get into bed with you? I can't get to sleep." Adam slowly opened his eyes and smiled mischievously. A soft groan escaped from his lips and he said, just as softly, "Of course. I was just dreaming about you." And, from his tone, Mia knew that he was telling the truth, not telling her some corny line. He made room for her to get into the bed. Mia was so surprised to see that Adam was wearing only his boxers that she turned crimson. Adam noticed this and half-smiled.

Mia got under the covers, next to Adam. He wrapped one of his arms around her and Mia instantly felt so safe, so warm. Their lips met in a soft, warm kiss. Adam gently nibbled on Mia's lower lip while she ran her fingers slowly down his chest. Mia's lips parted and Adam's tongue slipped into her mouth.

After a few minutes of kissing, Mia and Adam pried their mouths from each other. Adam smiled from ear to ear, so wide that it made Mia smile broadly right back. Adam started nuzzling Mia's neck and later that morning, Mia would wake up and find herself with an arm around Adam's waist, his head gently resting on her chest.

---

Michael sat at the edge of his bed, slowly sipping his steaming cup of coffee. His mind continued to bustle with thought as he scrawled down the second verse to a new song he was writing. "Oh, you're awake." Michael turned his head as Shayne approached him, a sultry smile on her face. Her raven hair cascaded down to her shoulders in choppy layers, streaked with chestnut brown.

"I have been," Michael said, looking back down at the sheet of paper. Shayne popped a blueberry in her mouth and walked up to Michael's side.

"You're writing another song?" Shayne said, chewing vigorously. Michael merely nodded his head, scrawling away in his slightly messy writing. Shayne put her hands on Michael's shoulder, fingering his suede jacket. Michael didn't seem to pay any notice that and continued writing. "Can I read it, then?" Without answering, Michael wrote a few last words and then handed it to Shayne._Let me be born again_

_In this absentminded ending_

_Return to the living that you once knew_

_And follow me, yes, follow me_

_Don't expect the life you live_

_To last forever in sorrow _

Shayne paused and smiled. "It's…interesting."

"You don't like it," Michael said flatly.

"No! Uh…Of course I like it," Shayne said earnestly. "It's just…you know…_different_."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," Michael said, faking hurt. Shayne playfully shoved him forward. Michael rose from the bed, his mouth gaping open, and softly shoved Shayne back. In a way that he _knew _didn't hurt. Because he was, after all, a gentleman, and it wouldn't have been very…gentlemanly to shove a member of the opposite sex. They both began to playfully shove each other until Michael let his hand linger a little too long on Shayne's bare arm.

"Uh, I'll go back down to the restaurant. You can…continue writing. Come down if you're hungry," Shayne said and with that, she was gone.

---

"Hello?"

"…Hey, Mom."

"Michael? Is that you? Landon! Michael's on the phone!"

"Yeah. It's me. I was just calling to say—"

"Michael! We miss you so much. You haven't called in weeks!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. We've just been so busy with all of the interviews and the promotion and everything…"

"Of course. I understand, honey. It's so great hearing your voice again, Michael."

"Yeah. Same here."

"I'll go get your father. He'll want to talk to you."

"Okay."

"Hello?"

"Dad…Hey."

"Michael. How are you, son? How's life in the spotlight?"

(Laugh) "It's…great. Really great. I'm actually at the Plaza right now."

"You're at the Plaza and you haven't bothered to come visit?"

"Oh! Uh…"

"When can you come by?"

"Um…I don't think there's anything scheduled tomorrow. So can I come by around four?"

"That'd be great. I'll go tell your mother. Well, Michael, it was great speaking to you.

"You too, Dad. You too."

(Click)

(Pause)

"Michael? Are you still there?"

(Pause)

(Click)

---

"Um…hey. Do you mind if I sit here?" A tall, dark-haired young man inquired, smiling down at the sitting Mia. Mia looked up into the bright green eyes of Adam Carrick, a fellow senior. She almost didn't speak, her throat suddenly seeming to tighten. So instead of saying anything, she nodded. Adam grinned and took the seat next to Mia. After a few moments of tapping his fingers against the desk, Adam turned to Mia. "I'm Adam. Adam Carrick…Hey, you're Princess Amelia, aren't you?" His bright emerald green eyes were lit up with carefree happiness.

"Yes, but I go by Mia for the most part," Mia said. She was used to getting recognized and was well known throughout the campus. It got kind of old after the first few weeks of freshman year, though, and she was a senior now. Mia was used to the constant whispering, questioning looks, and random questions, like 'Does your scepter have sapphires or rubies?'

"Oh, okay. Sorry," Adam said.

"No problem," Mia said, smiling. "Hey, you're not from around here, are you? Europe, I mean."

"No, actually. I've lived in Europe ever since I was seven. I was born in California," Adam said. Mia found herself staring at Adam's light pink lips as he spoke. "Weren't you born in New York? I remember reading an article about you somewhere."

"I lived there until I came here," Mia said, a certain nervousness to her voice. She wasn't too used to talking to guys, especially ones she found as attractive as Adam. But the light, friendly tone he was using instantly made her feel at ease.

"Funny I haven't seen you around much," Adam said, his head tilted, slowly taking in Mia's face in a way that made her heart skip. He had a really nice, not too deep voice, Mia noticed. Professor Beaumont rose from his seat and told them all to settle down, although in French. With one last smile at Mia, Adam looked away.

Mia turned pink and listened to the professor's instructions.

---

As they walked inside the Rockefeller Center, Adam held Mia's hand loosely in his own. Mia was positively bursting with happiness, almost as much as she was overwhelmed by the past three days' events. One day, she bumped into Michael and spoke to him for the first time in six years, even if it was only to utter a few words. And then, the next day, she and Adam were basically expressing their not exactly platonic feelings for each other.

So, it was safe to say that she was happy.

Rocky had begged to come along and Adam almost let him before Mia stepped in and told Rocky that there would probably be a lot of people kissing, seeing as how it was "couples night" (which she had made up). Rocky immediately ran off in disgust. So, Mia was perfectly content with the idea of Adam holding her hand while they skated on the ice, occasionally giving each other passionate looks. Or so she hoped.

Adam paid for both his and Mia's skates and they sat down on a bench to lace them up.

"This rink is almost as big as the one I once skated at in Russia," Adam said after he had laced up his skates. He sat with Mia as she laced up her skate. They both walked toward the ice as soon as she was finished. Adam took Mia's hand lightly and they skated onto the ice.

As they slowly skated, Mia remembered this one time, back in her freshman year of high school, when she had gone ice-skating with her then-boyfriend, Kenny Showalter, Lilly, Boris Pelkowski, Michael, and the girl Mia had thought was his girlfriend, Judith Gershner. Who would've known that Michael loved her? And that Kenny would ask her out?

As Mia skated with Adam, a plethora of memories ran through her mind. She saw the spot on the ice where she had almost bit the tip of her tongue off after falling on top of Kenny because he had absolutely _insisted _that he drag her around, skating backwards. He had been trying to copy Michael and Judith.

And this somehow reminded her of the day before Michael had left for college when he had sung a song for her. He hadn't written it, but he told Mia that it described how he felt about her.

I love how your eyes close

Whenever you kiss me

And whenever I'm away from you

I love how you miss me

I love the way your kiss is always heavenly

But darling, most of all,

I love how you love me


	5. don't forget about your past

Chapter Five: don't forget about your past

---

****

MusicWorld Exclusive Interview with MISSION FOR RECOGNITION

They're sitting across from me, clad in dark, ripped clothing. Mission for Recognition's self-titled debut album was released in October, and two months later, it's still going strong at number one on the charts. Michael Z, frontman of the five-person band, pauses between answers to sit a glass of white wine. _At ten o' clock in the morning. _The other members sit on both sides of him, looking moody, Shayne Osborn (lead bass) and David Richards (keyboards), guzzling down soy lattes. I apologize for such an early interview but Michael is the first to insist that it's no problem, they didn't have a show the previous night, so they're well rested. I smile and Michael grins back, exposing his bright, straight teeth. The smile on the man that launched a thousand fan sites declaring their love for the twenty-three year old, whom celebrates his birthday in early January.

Thank you all so much for coming today.

**Michael Z**: It's great of you to have us.

Shayne Osborn: Yeah, thanks.

Kristen Taylor: That's a nice sweater you have on. Where'd you get it?

I smile at Kristen, the band's drummer, and tell her that I bought it at Chanel. She says that she wishes she could get one for her younger sister, Anna.

Your debut album came out recently and it's been very successful. How have you all been dealing with this newfound fame?

MZ: Everything's been good, I guess. More people recognize us on the streets and we certainly have more stalkers than we used to. (_Laughs_)

Max Conor: I think it's amazing how much success we've had in the last two months, ever since the album came out. My mom just called me the other day and my old dentist was actually asking her if he could get my autograph for his teenage daughter. Apparently, she 'worships the gum I chew on…the ground I grace my size-ten feet with.'

David Richards: (_Laughs_) I think it's great how many fans come to our shows, guy and girls alike, to listen to our music. That's why we started this band in the first place: to play music for other people's enjoyment. And the groupies aren't too bad either.

(_The band laughs_)

So, how did you all meet and form the group?

MZ: David, Kristen, and I all actually attended Columbia [University]. We met through our biology class, I think it was. I had a band in high school, mostly just a little outfit for kicks. We were having a discussion one day about music and I told them that I could play instruments really well and I had actually had a band before. It turns out that David knew how to play the keyboard and Kristen was totally kicking at the drums. So, I was like, 'Hey, guys! Let's start a band!'

And how did Shayne and Max join?

SO: I've actually known David since I was four or five. We used to live next door to each other. He visited home one weekend and we started talking. I've been playing the bass for about ten years and then David asked me to join his band. And, obviously, I said yes.

MC: Actually, I was working at this Chinese take-out place in Manhattan called Number One Noodle Son and Michael was a regular customer there. He wore these 'band shirts' and a lot of those bands were ones that I like. I commented on them every time he came by and we eventually got started talking about music in general. Then, I let slip that I'm a pretty good guitarist and he was happy to hear that. He told me that he had a band going and all they needed was a guitarist to be complete. So, I joined.

And did you have any idea that just a couple of years later, you would have a number-one album?

KT: No, definitely not! We all didn't take it too seriously at first. Being in a band was just something to do on Saturday nights. I guess we never really took it too seriously until we got out of college.

MZ: Yeah. Exactly. With my other band, we didn't even _think _about getting a record deal. But, with Mission for Recognition, I guess you could say that we started it as something to, well, do but then it evolved into something more than gigs at friends' parties and small performances at local clubs. Apparently, word got around that we were, believe it or not, actually kind of good. (_Laughs_) Then, some record company executives started coming to our gigs and we got our record deal early this year.

Well, that's certainly an interesting start. I understand that you went through a few different band names before finally settling on Mission for Recognition. How did you come up with this name and what were your previous names?

MZ: I used to take the subway a lot when I was in high school. So, there was this homeless man that was always there, usually nibbling on these little bits of cheese. Whenever someone would offer him some money, he would always scream, "I'M ON A MISSION FOR RECOGNITION! I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" This, of course, scared away everyone but I found him rather fascinating.

Really? That's an odd story. But isn't part of a line from a Rooney song, "I'm on a mission for recognition…?"

MZ: Oh. Yeah. That too. Our first name was…

SO: The Bathtub Cuffers.

Wow. And how did you think up of that name?

KT: Uh…it's actually pretty self-explanatory. Michael here is notorious for finding random girls off the street, making them swoon over his boyish charm, taking them to his apartment, and cuffing them to his bathtub. It's all very sickening, really.

(_The band laughs)_

DR: Oh, there was also the Blender Brigade. I went through a rather sketchy phase when I was obsessed with putting just about everything into a blender, wondering what would happen.

Really? What did you…blend?

DR: Little rats, usually. Occasionally some wheat grass to freshen things up.

MZ: And before settling on Mission for Recognition, we were called Get in My Pants. Basically just a ploy to get girls into our pants.

And did that work? 

MZ: No.

There you have it! An exclusive interview with Mission for Recognition. It turns out that Michael has some interesting secrets (like his little bathtub cuffing fetish) and David went through a blending phase. They're the kings and queens of the music world and they're coming to eat your children. Or, rather, devour you whole with their amazing lyrics, consistent beats and rhythm, and just plain amazing style and music. They're a band that may very well be around forever. Or, at least, until Michael decides to take up cuffing girls to his bathtub again.

---

"Michael!" Elaine Moscovitz exclaimed, throwing her arms around her twenty-three year old son. "It's so great to see you, honey!" Michael hugged his mom back, taking her face in. He hadn't seen her in well over two months, since before the record had come out, and he had missed her and his dad so much. Lilly? He wasn't feeling the least bit affectionate toward the thought of his younger sister.

"Michael," Landon Moscovitz said in his warm, booming voice. He gave Michael a small hug as soon as Elaine managed to pry her arms off from around Michael's body. It felt good to be back home, to say the least. He looked around the apartment, breathing in its familiar, comforting scent. There was a strong cinnamon scent in the air and Michael only guessed that Maya, the housekeeper, had made her amazing gingerbread.

"We've been waiting for you," Elaine said, brushing a strand of hair behind Michael's ear. "We just read your band's interview in MusicWorld. It was…interesting. And Maya made her gingerbread cookies for you." Michael grinned, not opening his mouth to speak. He was simply speechless. He was neither nervous nor angry. He was too happy to speak. Too happy for words. He hadn't been this way since the first television performance Mission for Recognition had done.

Elaine led Michael to the kitchen where a plateful of gingerbread and a mug of hot cocoa awaited him. He had forgotten how much he loved having gingerbread and cocoa. Michael slowly started to reminiscence about his childhood, about the last night he had spent at home before leaving for Columbia.

"So, when does the tour start, son?" Landon said, entering the kitchen. Michael picked up some gingerbread and took a small bite. He turned to his father and finally spoke.

"We kick off the tour in three weeks," Michael said, taking another bite. He sat down and slowly stirred his hot cocoa, which had more than a hint of cinnamon. Elaine was just about to open her mouth to speak when Lilly entered the kitchen, dressed casually. She didn't try to hide the look that she had when she saw Michael sitting at the table, eating Maya's gingerbread cookies.

"Oh, look who it is!" Lilly said with mock amazement. "Mr. Rich and Famous Michael 'Z' himself!" Lilly exclaimed, an extra emphasis on the 'Z.' Michael rolled his eyes, setting the remaining leg of the gingerbread man down.

"It's great to see you too, Lil," Michael drawled, mustering up as much sarcasm as he could manage. Lilly reached out for a gingerbread man and roughly bit off its head, in what Michael thought she may have felt was an intimidating manner, but he felt more like laughing. Over the last few years especially, Lilly had developed from a bitchy teenager into a slightly less but somehow bitchier woman.

"I'm surprised that you took time out of your _oh so busy _schedule to come visit your _family_," Lilly said, her voice in a harsh whisper. Elaine looked absolutely outraged at her children's behavior.

"_Lilly_," Elaine said in a strained voice. But, unfortunately, Lilly chose to ignore her mother, who looked rather pained. With a last testy look at Lilly, she left the kitchen, Landon following confusingly after her.

"Oh, _wait_," Lilly said, her eyes widening. "Oh, yes, _that's _why you didn't come to visit mom and dad. Because you were too busy fucking Gwen Brody!" Her words didn't sting him as much as the thought of Gwen. For the most part, he had successfully avoided thinking or talking about her. Michael chose not such harsh language as Lilly did.

"For your _information_," Michael hissed, his dark brown eyes narrowed. "Gwen and I broke up two weeks ago. If you hadn't been living under a rock, you would've known that." Lilly didn't seem the least bit intimidated by Michael's seemingly threatening voice. She knew he was too soft for his own good.

"Oh, I've heard, all right. I heard that she was cheating on you with Julian Casablancas," Lilly said nastily. "Figures she would go for someone with more class." Lilly took the last gingerbread man off of the painted ceramic plate and left the kitchen, a certain spring to her step. At least she got gotten in the last word.

---

The sun softly hit the roof of the limo, peeking through the thick clouds. The limo had that new car smell, Mia noticed dejectedly. She had always hated that scent. "I'm sorry," Mia said, her eyes downcast. The first few minutes of the ride to the Plaza had been spent in silence between Mia and Adam. He had taken her hand, gently tracing the patterns, the tiny markings, of her knuckles.

"What for?" Adam said, sounding slightly bemused. He kept his eyes on Mia's hand, his warm hand enveloping Mia's smaller, cooler hand. Mia felt small shivers running up her spine as the warmth of his fingers slowly warmed her own hand. She watched Adam's face as he gazed down at her hand. He slowly looked up, a slow smile creeping onto his face. His green eyes were as bright as ever, like a glistening emerald or freshly cut grass.

"Uh, you know," Mia said. "Dragging you along to see Grandmere." Adam laughed.

"No, no, it's okay," Adam said, smiling brightly. "Clarisse isn't so bad." _If you only knew_, Mia thought, chewing on her bottom lip. They looked at each other in the eye for a few moments before Mia turned away, her cheeks pink. She still felt it hard to believe that Adam was her _boyfriend_. The same guy she had met in her literature class a little over a year before. The same guy who shared a love for Adam Green and Ben Kweller (he for the music, her for the music and the fact that both were acceptably attractive). The guy she had liked since the moment she had laid eyes on him.

The limo pulled up at the front of the Plaza. Cole, the driver, quickly got out of the driver's seat to open the doors for Mia and Adam. "Thanks, Cole," Mia said as she started to get out of her seat. Her hand dropped out of Adam's as she got out of the limo. Adam came out after her, looking up at the Plaza. He whistled, obviously impressed.

"I haven't been here for awhile," Mia said, more to herself than to Adam.

They walked side-by-side along the path, Lars several feet behind them.

Adam took Mia's hand in his and they smiled at each other before entering the Plaza.

---

"Where _is _the car?" Max Conor mumbled grumpily, looking around the lobby of the Plaza. The members of Mission for Recognition had been waiting for the car to come so they could go to sound check, but so far, there was no sign of it. Michael was impatient, of course, but he had other things on his mind. His visit home hadn't gone exactly as planned, though his mother did smother him with hugs and kisses before he left. And he _swore _that he saw a tear or two in his father's eyes, but he figured it might've just been the light.

Shayne had her cellphone pressed hard against her ear, babbling away to the person on the other end. Kristen rolled her eyes at this, casually tapping on her legs with her drumsticks. The random guests at the Plaza passed by the group, some sneering, others walking up to the members and asking them to sign random body parts.

Michael lazily gazed out of the doors of the Plaza, when they opened and in walked…

Mia? Michael immediately perked up as that familiar blond-headed woman entered the hotel. Then he noticed the guy coming in after her and almost immediately, he thought, _That must be Adam_. So, it really had been Mia at Penguin the previous week. He had really spoken to her so casually after not speaking for six years. Adam was walking behind Mia when he suddenly seemed to choke on air.

"_Mia_," Adam whispered to her.

"What?" Mia said, turning around to face Adam.

"It's _them_…_Mission_ for _Recognition_," Adam said, his eyes never looking away from the band. "Do you think I should go up and ask them for their autographs? I do have their CD in my pock—"

"Yeah, definitely," Mia said encouragingly, interrupting him. Michael's throat tightened when he noticed Mia and Adam walking up toward him and his bandmates. _Think of something smart to say…just think of _something _to say_, Michael thought, feeling oddly nervous, which was very unlike him.

"H-Hey, Michael," Adam said, his eyes wide. Mia looked at him oddly. He was usually confident, not so nervous. Mia turned back to face Michael and was immediately startled by his dark brown, almost black, eyes. His peat bog eyes she had obsessed about so often back in her freshman year of high school.

"Oh, hey," Michael said breezily, a small smile on his face. Michael slowly scanned Mia's face, absorbing her soft features. "Wait…weren't you at Penguin last week?" Adam looked completely ecstatic that Michael remembered him when they had barely even looked at each other. But he didn't know the truth. No…how could he?

Adam nodded his head enthusiastically, the broadest of grins lighting up his face. "Yeah! You bumped into my friend, Mia, here. After the performance, she asked to listen to your guys' CD and she liked it." _Well, you certainly like to talk for other people,_ Michael thought to himself.

"Oh, really? What did you think, _Mia_?" Michael said, such ease to his voice. Mia wondered how he could be so calm after their history together, the not speaking for so long. But he seemed perfectly calm and happy, which Mia envied. She felt her heart beating considerably faster, Michael's eyes frequently looking into her own gray ones. There were a few awkward moments of silence. Adam looked nervously to Mia, gently prodding her. But she just continued on staring at her size ten feet.

"Uh…Y-Yeah…I really like the one that goes…" And she proceeded to attempt to imitate the chorus of "Darkest Rose" which caused Michael and David, who had been standing by Michael the entire time, to laugh. Mia turned the brightest shade of crimson imaginable.

"Well, thanks," Michael said, never looking away from Mia's eyes.

"Can I have your autograph?" Adam inquired, holding out his Mission for Recognition CD. Michael finally broke his gaze and smiled at Adam. He took the permanent marker that he always kept in his inner-coat pocket for signings. He scrawled his signature and handed it to David, along with the pen. After a few minutes, all of the band members had signed the CD, which made Adam deliriously happy.

"Thanks," Adam said gratefully, slipping the CD back into his coat pocket.

"No problem," Michael said.

"Oh, well, look who finally showed up," Max said, pointing to a black van outside.

"Uh, that's our ride," Michael said. "We're heading off to soundcheck for the performance at Arienette in the Upper West Side at ten. You should come. The tour starts in about three weeks. We kick it off at…Raydan, I think." With one last look at Mia, he and the rest of the band headed out the door. Adam stood in shock, not really taking in the fact that he had just _spoken to _Michael Z and _gotten his autograph_.

"Uh…" Mia said, cocking her head. "We're late. Grandmere's probably angry."

"Yeah…okay."

---

A/N: Okay, that chapter was kind of long. Sorry if it got boring at parts. Please review! =)


	6. just say hello to the ground

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Six: just say hello to the ground

---

Mia wanted to take the sunset and save it. The sky was the softest of pinks, laced heavily with thin, wispy white clouds. The stars were faintly visible, the moon appearing clearer and clearer every few minutes. The roof of the apartment building was noticeably dirt but Mia sat down on it anyway, gazing up at the sky. The sun slowly lowered in the background, which she found oddly comforting.

She had seen Michael for the second time in a week. Was it a coincidence or was fate currently working against her? She hadn't seen or spoken to him in _six years _and now, she was seeing him once a week. Mia thought about the way his smile was so carefree, like he didn't care that he was talking to the girl he used to be in love with. He had looked into her gray eyes with such ease, it was painful. How could he be so calm when she had felt so nervous? She should've been able to talk to him as a friend, not as a girl he once loved but didn't anymore.

But there was something else that was etched in her mind. It was what Adam had said to Michael: _"Yeah! You bumped into my friend, Mia, here. After the performance, she asked to listen to your guys' CD and she liked it." _Adam had called Mia his friend. The sweet kisses between meals and the holding hands in the park said otherwise. It was odd how three words, my friend, Mia, could affect her so much. But they had hit her like a tidal wave.

A soft sigh escaped from Mia's glossed lips and she closed her eyes. Adam had said something about wanting to take a shower before going to Raydan to see Mission for Recognition. "_Michael Z _invited us after all," Adam had said, a thrilled smile on his face. Mia imagined Adam with a towel wrapped around his waist. He took his cologne and softly spritzed some onto his neck and then onto his chest. She thought about nestling into Adam's naked chest and taking in his scent, which evoked thoughts of burnt leaves and pine.

She was so lost in thought that when a voice from behind her called her name, she took a few moments to turn around to respond. "Oh, hi, Mom," Mia said, smiling up at Helen Thermopolis. Helen had wrapped a vibrant scarf around her neck to protect her from the cold breeze. The wind calmed Mia's nerves; it seemed to settle her mind.

"Hi, sweetie," Helen said, looking bemused at the sight of her daughter sitting on the softly dirt covered roof of the apartment building. She sort of shrugged and sat down beside her daughter, looking happy and warm. "What are you doing up here?" Mia paused before speaking, her eyes closed again.

"I was just thinking, I guess," Mia said. Helen tucked a strand of hair behind Mia's ear, scanning her daughter's face with concern. Mia opened her eyes, though reluctantly, and looked to her mom. Mia couldn't help but notice that Helen was still beautiful and young-looking, even if she was nearing forty. Her dark, glossy curls cascaded down past her shoulders and her eyes were bright and cheerful.

"Thinking about what?" Helen said, in a softer voice than she usually had. She looked out at the sunset and smiled. The slightest hint of darkness was in the sky, the sun almost fully set. The sky was streaked with deep grays and pinks. It was a lot to take in but she managed. And before she knew what she was doing, she was telling her mom just about everything she was thinking about, with no inhibitions.

"I've been thinking about so many things. Adam, for one. We were going to see Grandmere at the Plaza and who should we stumble across but _Michael_? I mean, I did see him last week and I didn't even know that he's in this world famous band, Mission for Recognition. And he acted like he barely knew me! He seemed so calm and I was so nervous. But, then again, why would he be nervous? He _did _break up with _me_ after all. So, maybe he was thinking how he hadn't missed out over the last six years since we've been apart. And, then, Adam said to Michael that I was his _friend _and I know for a fact that we're more than friends. Or maybe he was just lying to make me feel better? But that's not like Adam. He never lies to me, but—"

"Honey," Helen said, raising her hand to silence Mia. "It seems like you've got a lot on your mind. And you saw Michael twice?" Mia nodded her head, her eyes on the ground. Mia had told Helen all about Michael's final call two days after, days in which she spent hidden in her room, watching trashy television and pigging out on ice cream. She had tried to sound calm but had ended up sobbing into her mom's chest.

---

_Mia Thermopolis took a deep breath before walking out into the kitchen, where her mom was feeding Rocky. She closed her eyes and stopped before entering the kitchen. Helen looked so happy and Mia didn't want to ruin that with the news. She didn't want to think about Michael or his perfect peat bog eyes, his reddish-pink lips, his deep, mellifluous voice. She just wanted to get over him once and for all. But the wound was still fresh and she felt like crying whenever she saw something that reminded her of Michael._

_She had kept in her room for the previous two days, ripping up every song Michael had written for her. She had almost flushed the snowflake necklace he had given her for her fifteenth birthday but had thought better of it, since it went well with most of her clothes. Or, rather, because it much too sentimental to her. She ripped almost every picture she had of him into tiny little pieces, keeping only one that showed her and Michael smiling at the zoo, in front of the penguins. But she kept that and the snowflake necklace hidden in a small box in a corner of her closet, random clothing strewn on it. _

_Mia opened her dull gray eyes and entered the kitchen the second Helen was finished feeding Rocky. Helen looked startled at the sight of Mia. She hadn't seen her in two days but she didn't exactly know why Mia had barricaded herself in her room. She just knew that Mia was upset. And now Mia was out of her room, greasy-haired, smelling rather rank._

_"Mia, are you okay?" Helen inquired, her eyebrows raised. "I haven't seen you out of your room in days and you're smelling rather…" Helen wanted to use an adjective that wouldn't offend Mia. "Um. Ripe." Mia opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She resorted to calling Helen something she hadn't called her since she was seven._

_"Mommy," Mia said, slowly nearing Helen. "H-H-He…" Helen looked concerned now. Mia's eyes were slowly filling with hot tears. "Michael…he…he…" Before she could stop herself, she started to cry into her mother's chest. Try as hard as she could, she couldn't stop. Helen was startled, of course, but understood. She started to stroke Mia's hair as Rocky began crying with Mia. The kitchen was filled with sobs that morning. And Mia promised herself that she would never get as upset over a breakup as she was then._

---

Arienette was bustling with people. No, rather, it was crowded with so many people that Mia found it rather hard to breathe. If the gyrating bodies weren't enough to creep her out, the men parading around in catsuits surely were. But she was there to enjoy a Mission for Recognition show, wasn't she? It was all about the music. And Adam. And, she thought, possibly Michael as well. They were, after all, still friends, right? Yes, friends that spent six years not talking to each other, that time probably being longer if they hadn't bumped into each other so suddenly. Mia was simply there to enjoy a nice night out partying, probably throwing back a few drinks, and watching a good band perform live. But maybe it didn't help that her first and only love was the lead singer of that band.

She supposed that it was inevitable that Michael would become rich and famous when he was older. She thought sadly of Skinner Box and how their demise had been most quick. The day Michael left for Columbia, it was sort of official that Skinner Box would break up. He was what you would call a "musical genius." He could play a plethora of instruments and wrote songs every single day. There was always a new melody, a new song, playing in his head and he could write up amazing songs in a matter of minutes.

Mission for Recognition was scheduled to perform in fifteen minutes. Adam was undeniably excited to be seeing a full show by his favorite band. Mia noticed that he was looking rather fidgety and that he hadn't even taken a sip of his drink. Mia looked around nonchalantly, tipping her beer lightly into her mouth, the liquid slowly hitting her teeth. She wasn't much of a drinker but she felt that she might need a few beers that night.

"Aren't you excited, Mia?" Adam asked, smiling. He took her hand and gently caressed her fingers with his thumb. Sure she was excited. Just probably not as much as he was. She looked into Adam's gleaming green eyes and nodded. A sweet smile played on his lips and he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. It was honestly those short, sweet kisses that made Mia the happiest. But the whole "friend" thing was still nagging at her.

"I can't wait until they get on stage," Mia murmured, grinning at Adam. He looked at her intently for a moment, a small smirk on his face, before looking back at the stage. After a few seconds passed by, Mia set her drink down and laced her fingers with Adam's. She leaned in, her lips meeting his. He was caught off-guard but quickly eased into the kiss. Mia slowly ran her hands through his messy hair while he kept his warm hands at her waist. Mia smiled when he started to nibble on her bottom lip.

"Ladies and gentleman, from Manhattan, Mission for Recognition!" Adam pulled away so quickly that Mia stood there for a few seconds, not really knowing what had just happened. Then she turned to the stage. Adam took her hand and started walking closer to the stage. He swiftly passed through the throng, some of which looked disgruntled.

Mia kept her eyes on the stage as Mission for Recognition walked on. She noticed Michael walking on first. He smiled back at this girl with messy black hair. She smiled back and said something. He laughed and headed to the front of the stage while the other band members walked to their instruments.

The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping. There was one particular girl by Mia that started crying and mumbling something about how she wanted to have Michael's babies. Mia found it oddly dazing to see Michael on the large stage of such a large club. Back when he was in Skinner Box, the biggest stage they had ever really been on was a small part of the Empire State Building observation deck at his prom.

"Hey," Michael said in a low, growling voice into the microphone. "We are Mission for Recognition. We'll be doing songs off the album, songs that aren't on the album, as well as a few covers. Our first song tonight is one you all have probably heard…'Reoccurring Kind.'" Mia watched as Michael smirked and the lead guitarist, Max, played the intro to the song. The crowd didn't quiet down until Michael uttered the first word of the song. Mia watched with amazement as one single voice, albeit an amazing one, made the crowd settle down to a murmur. Mia saw Adam watch Michael with rapt attention out of the corner of her eye.

_Did you expect it all to fall the way you wanted it to? _

_We are only what you want me to be_

_I want to see inside your mind_

_I need to breathe inside your head_

_But you won't let me because_

Mia took a deep breath before Michael plunged into the chorus.

You and I

Are the reoccurring kind

Your eyes melt into the darkness of the

Spiritual, we live everyday as much as

We, can't you see?

You and I

We

Are the reoccurring kind

Almost all of their songs were about something to do with love. Back when Michael was in Skinner Box, he had written most of his songs about Mia and quite a few political songs, such as "Rock Throwing Youths." Mia noticed that some of the songs on the album were about heartbreak or revenge, still some about newfound love, even though one or two was about the government. Most people, she felt, would've compared Mission for Recognition to the likes of The Strokes, Rooney, and Phantom Planet. Some of the lyrics were as deep as Bright Eyes while others were just fun and catchy, like those of Ben Kweller, Adam Green, and Rooney.

Mia bit her lip, an eyebrow raised, when Michael started stroking his microphone in a suggestive manner. She was surprised at Michael's voice. Sometimes it was low and smooth, other times happier and more fun. Mia even heard a guy a few feet away from her saying, "Wow! This is like dancey indie rock!" Mia almost snorted at that but managed to keep her full attention on the band.

_When the fake green trees are whispering _

_Your lies tangle like a web of memories_

_I thought that we were the kind_

_The reoccurring kind_

_Loving is so hard to do_

_Especially when it's always on my mind_

_I don't love you_

Applause filled the room as Mission for Recognition ended their first song. Adam whispered into her ear, "I love being here with you, Mia. I'm seeing my favorite band with the person I like most in the world. Things couldn't get much better, I don't think." Mia grinned and pecked Adam's cheek. She couldn't help but think that sometimes he seemed to say the sappiest, corniest things but he made it work somehow.

"This next song is a cover," Michael murmured into the microphone. "It's a song called 'What's New For Fall' by a little band from Omaha, Nebraska…Desaparecidos." He smiled a gentle, almost timid smile that nearly made the girl who wanted to have Michael's babies faint.

_In the corduroys or jeans _

_Chinos or capris_

_Sweater vest, no sleeves_

_Oxford underneath_

_Or whatever you think_

_I mean, whatever's gonna make you want me_

_Come on, dress me_

_I'll be your mannequin_

_Make me attractive_

_So sexy and thin_

_Well, stand still, pose me_

Mia laughed lightly as Michael imitated little poses, as if he were modeling. The rest of the audience seemed to find this quite humorous as well. At the line "_I don't think she likes me, not with this new haircut_" Michael flipped his hair and pouted his lips, which made both Adam and Mia crack up in laughter, though for different reasons.

Adam only knew Michael as the frontman of Mission for Recognition, his favorite band. He saw him as someone who was so cool, so calm, without any effort that he found himself wanting to _be _Michael sometimes. He thought that maybe he was a little obsessed, yes, but he just really loved the music.

Back when they had been dating, Mia had viewed Michael as a floppy-haired, guitar-playing god, so to speak. He had always been so serious but so sarcastic at the same time that her heart seemed to melt every time he opened he opened his mouth to speak to her. Or, you know, stick his tongue into her mouth.

So, as Mia watched Michael act like a pouty vixen (though a male one), she couldn't help but think when she thought that Michael was the exact epitome of perfect. For her, anyway. And he had seemed to agree. Mia found herself chewing on her lip, thinking about Michael while watching him onstage.

---

Michael felt nervous performing in front of the crowd but by the look on his face, you could tell he liked the pressure of either making or breaking the show. The night seemed to be breezing by like a strong wind on a crisp autumn day. Michael found himself flipping his hair and basically flirting with his microphone. But it was all in good fun, he supposed. He looked occasionally to both of his sides, even smiling at Kristen and David a few times while they played their instruments behind him. Max played his guitar solos with a unique precision, causing a slew of "OH MY GOD! MAX IS, LIKE, _SO _HOT!! MAX, LET ME HUMP YOUR LEG!!"

Michael ran a hand through his hair before playing the opening chords of one of the better crowd-pleasers, "Darkest Rose." The crowd, boys and girls alike, sang along as Michael sang the chorus in a silky, deep voice that absolutely drove the girls wild. A certain boy didn't seem to pleased that Michael seemed to be making his girlfriend swoon, he noticed while looking out at the crowd.

The first person he had seen when he had walked onto the stage was Mia. That Adam guy had been pulling her toward the front after what seemed like had been a makeout session, by the way Adam's hair was sticking out in random directions. Oh, and the fact that pink lipgloss was smeared across Mia's cheek, which she had wiped away before the chorus of "Reoccurring Kind."

Michael noticed that Mia was looking particularly nice that night. Her hair was tied up in an intricate knot, stopping just above the nape of her neck. She wore a black top and a pair of jeans, a gold bracelet dangling from her wrist. But the one thing that stood out in his mind most was the necklace she was wearing.

A snowflake necklace.

---

**_MISSION FOR RECOGNITION THANKS _**

**Michael thanks: **Wow, there are so many people to thank. First of all, the "Z" family. You guys rock. Except for, you know, Lilly. Okay, I have to thank you too. Because if you weren't my sister, a lot of the songs I have written (the angst-ridden ones, that is) would never have been. So, thank you for being the biggest bitch I know. Oh, and I mean that in the best way possible. Seriously. Gwen, you never leave my mind. Everything about you makes me want to do things that I don't think I can mention here. Thanks to Max, David, Shayne, and Kristen (known collectively, along with me, as Mission for Recognition…FUCK YEAH!) for being there in times of great happiness as well as during those shitty moments where you just want to crawl back in bed and suffocate yourself with a pillow. You guys own and you know it, damn it! David, if it weren't for you and your sensibility along with your witty humor, there probably never would have been a Mission for Recognition…Who else? Ah, yes, the Rooney boys (known to us MfR members as the Roonsters or the "dirty pimp playas"). Thanks for…rockin' and rollin'. The whole shebang! BOO YA, Ned! I'll never let you live that movie down! Yo, Carrick. What's up, playa? I'm off on a flying walnut and it is not pretty! Ha ha. Warren, you may be our manager but you're still cool. Yeah. And last but not least, thanks, whale girl (I am not in any way implying that you are overweight), for the inspiration for most of my songs. You know who you are.

---

A/N: Okay, this story will hopefully get better in the upcoming chapters. Please review!


	7. we hope your rules and wisdom choke you

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Seven: we hope your rules and wisdom choke you

A/N: You guys are so sweet! Thank you so much for your reviews and I'm glad that some of you really love this story. It's really fun writing it and I'm happy that it's enjoyable to read. I hope you like this chapter! =D

This chapter is painfully worse than the last. So consider yourself warned.

---

She felt someone breathing on her neck. She was alarmed until the person behind her spoke. "How'd you like the show?" Mia closed her eyes before turning around, straight into the face of her ex-boyfriend, Michael Moscovitz. His dark brown eyes were warm and friendly, his hair flopping onto his eyes. She was standing at the entrance of the club while Adam went to go get them both drinks.

"Oh, my God!" screamed a young, dark-haired girl. "Can I take a picture with you, Michael?!" He smiled at the girl and nodded. The girl wrinkled her nose at Mia, as if she couldn't believe that someone as godlike as Michael could talk to someone that looked like such a nonentity as Mia. "Do you mind?" The girl said cattily, shoving the camera into Mia's hands. Mia looked bemused for a second but nodded anyway.

"Okay…Um. Cheese." Michael wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulder and felt that she was shaking. He found this oddly humorous, because he wasn't aware how he could make _any _girl nervous. Mia took the photo and gave the camera back to the girl.

"Thanks, Michael!" she said sweetly. Mia could've sworn that she saw the girl pinch Michael's ass before walking away cheerfully. Michael stifled a laugh and smiled at Mia, who smiled back. "It was really good," Mia said. "You were really good." She added before she could stop herself. She felt her cheeks turn pink as she looked down at the ground. She saw Michael's fingers drumming along his sides.

"Thanks," Michael said. "So…"

"Yeah."

"Isn't it weird? I mean, we don't see each other for six years and now we're seeing each other more than once a week," Michael said, his head tilted. "So, anyway, where's Adam?" Mia looked up, though not looking Michael in the eye. Even after all of these years, he still made her feel as nervous as ever.

"Oh, he's just getting us some drinks," Mia said, blinking. Michael nodded his head.

"Well, uh, I'm going to go backstage, I guess," Michael said. After a moment of silence, he leaned forward. Mia eyes widened in confusion as she wondered if Michael was about to kiss her. Instead, he stopped a mere half-inch away from her ear and whispered, "I like your necklace." With one last small grin, he turned around and walked toward the stage. Mia looked down and the snowflake necklace glimmered up at her. She fingered it, watching Michael's head.

__

He remembered.

---

****

To: Tina Pelkowski iluvboris42earthlink.net

From: Lilly Moscovitz lillyandthewallhotmail.com

Re: Guess who's back…

I don't know if you've heard yet, but guess who's back? None other than the two lovebirds themselves: Michael and Mia! Michael is, believe it or not, more annoying now than he was a year ago. Seriously. Fame can really go to some people's heads. It's not like he's _that famous _anyway. I mean, sold out venues are _nothing _these days. Plus, their whole album is so…not good. Did you buy their CD? I know I told you to get it and mock it but now I think that it'd be better if you never purchase it so you don't aid their album sales.

I talked with "Princess Amelia" last week and, honestly, I think I may have been a bit too harsh on her. And she acted like she didn't even _know _that Michael is in this stupid, famous (but crappy) band. No, she seemed really surprised to see me but I guess it was a rather random visit. I'm supposed to be her best friend but she didn't call me for a _year_! How am I supposed to feel?!

Lilly

P.S. How's Boris?

---

"We should write about something other than love," Max said, his nose wrinkled. Michael looked at him in disbelief. The members of Mission for Recognition sat lazily in their grand suite, feasting on takeout from Number One Noodle Son. Kristen conversed with Shayne about Manic Panic hair dye while David sat in a corner, reading a best seller while occasionally eating some chow mein or sipping his chai latte.

"Max! Think about it. Almost _all _songs are about love," Michael said, sighing. "What are we going to write about? Doughnuts? The art of origami?" Max rolled his eyes, puffing away on his cigarette. Michael stuffed some roast pork into his mouth and lay back in this armchair, chewing vigorously.

"Could you _not _smoke in the suite?" Shayne said cattily.

"Says the girl who chain smokes every chance she gets," Max said, his eyes closed. "Anyway, Michael, we could write songs about politics or shit like that. It's not exactly enjoyable when every single song we play has the words 'Oh, baby girl, I love you more than the sun' and shit. I mean, we're not a bunch of pussies." Shayne and Kristen raised their eyebrows questioningly at Max who ignored them.

"Dude, you suck at writing lyrics so you shouldn't be talking," Michael said, rising from the chair. "You know what, let's just stop arguing. I'm going to go outside for a smoke." He smirked at Shayne and left the suite. Michael took out the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and walked into the elevator. Music played softly as he stood impatiently.

Michael got out of the elevator and walked out of the Plaza. The cold wind hit his face, sending shivers up his spine. It would've been useless to try to light up a cigarette so Michael slipped the pack back into his pocket and began walking aimlessly around. He had never liked smoking much anyway. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk, hailing a cab. He just wanted to get away from his bandmates and they didn't have any gigs or rehearsals lined up for a couple of days.

"Where will it be?" asked the cab driver, a middle-aged, fair-haired man. Michael paused a moment before speaking. Where could he go? Certainly not his parents' apartment. And not somewhere he would be instantly recognized.

"1005 Thompson Street," Michael said, breathing in deeply.

---

Mia stood in front of the stove, the kettle of water whistling softly. It may only have been one o'clock but the wind gusting outside was as cold as ever. Snowflakes slowly fell down from the sky, clouding over the gray sidewalks and leafless trees. Mia looked out the window as the snow fell from the deep sky. The whistling coming from the kettle steadily grew louder and she turned off the stove. Using an oven mitt, Mia poured the boiling water into a cup of hot cocoa powder. She stirred with a spoon when the doorbell rang.

Helen and Frank were out showing Adam the sights. Mia was exhausted from the previous night so she had decided to stay home. Adam had been slightly disappointed that Mia wasn't going to join them but soon recovered when Helen began babbling about the Metropolitan. He had kissed her so sweetly before he left that Mia felt red just thinking about it.

"Coming!" Mia exclaimed, setting her mug of hot cocoa onto the kitchen table. She hurried to the door and her mouth gaped open when she was who was standing in front of her, snowflakes gently laced in his long, dark brown hair.

"Michael!" Mia said, certainly more nervous than she had been seconds before. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I would've preferred a 'Hey, Michael. It's great to see you!' but, you know," Michael said, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess I'm here to…" He paused. "Talk! Yeah. Talk." Mia looked bemused.

"Well, um, okay," Mia said. "Come in. It must be freezing outside."

"It's not so bad," Michael said, smiling brilliantly. Mia let him by and closed the door.

"I just made some hot cocoa," Mia said. "Would you like some?"

"Sure. Okay." Mia led Michael to the kitchen. Michael's eyes darted around the apartment, taking in the things that had changed as well as the things that had stayed the same. The cat clock was still ticking by the entrance to the kitchen, reading the time. The kitchen walls had been painted a lush peace shade, opposed to the cerulean they used to be. Mia quickly emptied a pack of cocoa powder mix into an empty mug and added the hot water. She got a spoon and stirred it gently, her hand shaking.

"Sorry if it's a bit random that I dropped by," Michael said after Mia had handed him the cup of cocoa. They both sat down at the table, avoiding each other's eyes. "I was just hanging around with the rest of the band in our suite at the Plaza, which was boring. And, so, I thought I'd swing by…You know. Talk with you."

"Oh, okay," Mia said absently, taking a small sip of her hot cocoa. Michael waited for Mia to add on but she kept her mouth closed, except for when she gulped down her cocoa.

"So, where's Adam?"

"Oh, he's out with mom and Frank. They're showing him Manhattan, I guess," Mia said. "…How's life been? I mean, I didn't even know about your band until that night at Penguin. Adam's a really big fan of yours."

"I kind of figured that out," Michael said with a laugh, though nothing was particularly funny. "Yeah, well, our album came out two months and ever since then, everything's been like a dream come true, as cliché as that may sound. Well, not everything's been perfect. I mean, my girlfriend broke up with me so she could go bang the lead guitarist from our rival band, North Storm. Hate North Storm. They don't even care about their music. All of it's shit anyway. They sound like any other computerized band. But Gwen's into posers, I guess."

"Gwen?" Mia echoed. "Are you talking about Gwen _Brody_?" Michael nodded his head.

"Wow! I mean…_wow_. I'm such a big fan of Gwen's," Mia stopped when she noticed the perturbed look on Michael's face. "I'm sorry though…about the breakup, I mean." Mia thought of how Gwen was sort of like the male counterpart of Michael. She had dark brown—almost black—hair and hazel eyes that Mia had always found frighteningly bright. She had read so many articles about Gwen and knew that she was had a perfectly witty, sarcastic humor and could play a gamut of instruments.

"Don't be," Michael said, gently patting the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. His eyes wandered around the kitchen once again, anything to avoid Mia's soft gray eyes. "She wasn't much of a girlfriend anyway." That was partly true. She had been amazing and warm and beautiful. But she had never been one for a committed relationship, what Michael wanted most.

"So, how many girlfriends have you had since…" Mia paused, her eyes cast downward. She had been about to say 'after our breakup' but stopped before she could. She didn't finish her sentence, instead looking out the window above the kitchen sink. The sky was perfectly pale and gray, the same shade as her eyes.

"Girlfriends? As in, serious, out-on-dates girlfriends?" Michael said, facing Mia. She nodded her head.

"Uh…two," Michael said. Mia looked up and nearly smiled at the sheepish look on his face. "Before Gwen, there was…Shayne. You know her. She's the bassist in the band. It was a short relationship…not so much love as lust." He guiltily thought of hooking up with Shayne after ever Mission for Recognition show, sometimes sneaking into an empty closet or a dark hallway. But sometimes they were able to have a nice, romantic dinner at a favorite restaurant or just spend hours gazing into each other's eyes…or _fucking_. Michael always preferred this harsh term to 'making love' because he felt he had only really ever made love to one person.

"Two?" Mia echoed. She thought that famous rockstars were supposed to go through girlfriends as quickly as underwear. This shamefully made her think of Michael wearing only his boxers. She shook the thought from her mind and looked up, immediately turning red when she saw that Michael had been staring at her this whole time.

"But, if you're talking about hooking up…I don't like to admit it, but I've probably hooked up with about fifteen girls in the last five years," Michael said, gently biting his lower lip. _Fifteen girls in five years_, Mia thought, her eyes resting their gaze on Michael's hair. It was long, a few inches above his shoulders, curls tousled throughout. Mia thought about the seventeen girls, not including her, who had ran their fingers through and played with Michael's hair. The mere thought made her stomach twist.

She decided to change the subject.

"So, you're going out on tour soon…That must be exciting," Mia said, now scanning Michael's mug. He hadn't drunk more than a small gulp.

"Yeah, I've always wanted to," Michael said, a faint trace of a smile on his face. "Go out on tour, I mean. The sleeping in a crowded bus with four people might not seem too appealing to some people but I don't really mind. I just want to get out into the world and share my music with the fans, you know?" Mia nodded even though she didn't.

"It's great being back in New York," Michael said, his lips curled in a grin. "I left behind so many things…My family, my friends…" Michael stopped but he knew that they both knew what he was about to say.

__

'…You.'

---

__

The glowing stars shone down upon them. The sky was as dark as a dusty chalkboard. Michael Moscovitz smiled at his girlfriend, Mia Thermopolis, as they lay on a blanket on the roof of his apartment building. He held her hand in his as they gazed up at the scintillating stars. The heat coming from Michael's body kept Mia warm as she nestled up against him. The air was pleasantly cool for a summer night in Manhattan.

"Have you ever wondered about the stars?" Mia asked breathlessly, closing her pale gray eyes. Michael faced Mia, making out her features in the dim light. His warm breath gently caressed her neck as she imagined the stars.

"Every time I look up at my ceiling or gaze out of my window, Mia," Michael whispered loudly, tickling Mia's ear. She half-smiled and slowly opened her eyes. "They make me think of you." The roof was unexpectedly clean, except for dirt lightly sprinkled everywhere. It certainly didn't take away from the warm atmosphere, Michael thought as he stroked Mia's thumb. It still surprised him after eight months that he was the boyfriend of someone as amazing as Mia.

They had spent the day strolling in Washington Square Park, breathing in the fresh air. Mia wanted to spend as much time as possible with Michael before he left for Columbia, even though it wasn't even that far away from where he was living now, with his family. But, she feared that he would be constantly busy with schoolwork and making new friends that he would soon forget her. So Mia was doing everything possible to make this summer a memorable one.

A few slow moments of silence passed. "…Michael?" Mia said, half-worried that Michael had fallen asleep. She stroked his hair, continuing to look up at the melting stars.

"Yeah, Mia?"

"I love you," Mia whispered, her eyes now looking into Michael's.

"I love you too, Mia," Michael said seriously, meaning every single word.

"I think that…that…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready…" Michael eyes widened in surprised at those two words.

"Are…Are you sure?" Michael said, his throat tightening. Mia wanted it so badly and she knew that he did too. So, she felt, it was the logical thing to do. She couldn't stop thinking about making love to Michael and feeling even closer to him.

"Yes…I love you," Mia repeated, louder this time. They both rose from the blanket, looking into each other's eyes. Michael helped Mia slip off her shirt. He nuzzled her neck, planting small, sweet kisses onto it. Michael's clean, soapy smell filled Mia's nostrils and she smiled dreamily, her hands on Michael's nape. She ran her fingers up and began playing with his long, dark brown hair.

Michael grinned into Mia's neck. She smelled vaguely of baby powder and floral shampoo, which somehow reminded him of Mia when she was in the sixth grade and he had first realized that he had a crush on her. Loved her, even, as a freshman. She had been on roller skates and had kept falling. But she had kept getting up to attempt to skate again, which she eventually could do without falling every two minutes.

They slowly made love under the glowing stars that night. Mia felt like she couldn't breathe as her mouth met Michael's and they kissed so warmly, so passionately. It hadn't really sunk in that they had both lost their virginity to each other. Michael never saw what happened with Mia that night as fucking. No, he and Mia had made slow, deep, passionate love that August night. And there would never be a day that he didn't think about that beautiful night.


	8. we are nowhere and it's now

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Eight: we are nowhere and it's now

A/N: Why yes, I _did _use 'Hate North Storm' as a reference to _This Lullaby_. I really love that book as well as _Dreamland _and _Someone Like You _by Sarah Dessen (I have yet to read her other novels).

I'm really quite pessimistic and insecure about my writing but I'm content with knowing that some people at there like it, even if it's just a little bit. Thank you for commenting. Your reviews really brighten up my day. Oh, and sorry for taking so long to update.

- - -

Mia looked out of her window at the gorgeous night sky as she pinned the last stray strand of hair to her brilliantly disheveled bun. Grandmere had told her about "what an absolutely important occasion" the winter ball was. All of New York's socialites would be attending and Clarisse had absolutely insisted that Mia attend, for her own well being. Mia wore the stunning silvery blue gown that Grandmere had shown her the week before. It shimmered softly under the bedroom lights. Mia could only imagine what she would look like in a ballroom, surrounded by hundreds of other guests. Her lips were stained a soft cherry red, her eyelids softly washed with sheer cerulean.

"You look…amazing," said a voice from behind her. Mia smiled as Adam neared her, wearing a black Armani suit. His dark locks were kept loosely in place with gel. He smelled of piney cologne and coffee. Adam rested his chin onto Mia's shoulder, taking in her reflection. He saw a young, attractive couple smiling. Mia saw them as two good friends who had decided to become a couple and were clearly infatuated with each other.

"Thanks, Adam. You look great, too," Mia said, gently sighing as Adam kissed the side of her neck. Adam nestled Mia's necks, blowing softly onto her pale flesh. Mia felt goosebumps dotting her arms and legs as startling shivers crept their way up her spine.

"So, if this ball turns out to be on the monotonous side, do you think Clarisse would let us bail?" Adam asked in his golden, mellifluous voice. Adam walked in front of her and kissed her eyelids, which Mia found to be slightly bizarre but she enjoyed it anyway. It was the simple gestures of affection that Mia found to be the best, such as a small kiss on the forehead or a blowing into the ear.

"I highly doubt it," Mia said. "But I guess we could try sneaking out. Well, you know, if this dress wasn't so visible to the eye. But I think that it'd be worth it to try." She shot Adam a mischievous grin and kissed his lips lightly, her lip gloss smudging onto Adam's naturally deep pink lips.

"Look…it's snowing again," Mia said, her head tilted, gazing at the snowflakes that fell from the pale winter sky. Tranquil classical music played as Adam helped Mia hook the clasp of her snowflake necklace. The glowing lights made her diamond earrings gleam as she closed her eyes, slowly swaying with Adam along to the music. As they danced, Mia couldn't but feel that the moment reminded her of something. Something vague.

---

"Do we absolutely have_ to go to the ball?" Michael asked, smiling up at his girlfriend. His dark hair flopped over his right, equally dark, eye. He had on his best—his only—suit and had polished his shoes to maximum perfection. Mia put one of her small amethyst earrings into her right ear as Michael watched her with rapt attention, almost as if she were painting the _Mona Lisa _or some other equally enchanting painting._

"Yes, Michael," Mia said, grinning slightly. "I can't get out of it. I mean, the ball might be boring but at least Grandmere will be gone for the rest of the summer, right? She's flying back to Genovia tomorrow." Michael nodded, realizing what she spoke was the truth. Clarisse Renaldo would be flying back to her native country the next day, June 21st, and would leave both Michael and Mia alone, once and for all. Michael felt that things were so limited and suffocating when Clarisse would constantly order Mia around, being her true self.

Sure, he had a certain amount for his girlfriend's grandmother but that didn't stop him from thinking she was an overly selfish, barbaric sort of woman. "So, where is it, again?" Michael inquired as Mia sat down beside him on her bed. She indicated her necklace and he smiled as he hooked the clasp of the snowflake necklace he had gotten her for her fifteenth birthday a month before.

"At one of Grandmere's friends' mansions," Mia said, scoffing. Quite frankly, she was surprised that Clarisse even had friends, with her snotty attitude and all. "We only have to stay for one, two hours. It'll be fun. Hopefully." Michael smiled and leaned forward to kiss Mia. His mouth worked its way down to Mia's neck and he began nuzzling it, grinning.

"Michael," Mia said, though reluctantly. "Not now…We have to leave soon. The limo should be here in ten minutes and I still need to put on some lip gloss to replace the layer you just ruined." She shot Michael a smirk. 

"You look gorgeous," Michael said sincerely, taking Mia's soft, delicate hands into his larger, rougher ones. He squeezed them reassuringly, offering her a small, tender kiss. Mia felt her cheeks growing warm as Michael ran his thumb over her knuckles, gazing adoringly into her eyes.

"You look great too, Michael."

"Mia! The limo's here!" Helen Thermopolis exclaimed from outside the door.

"Shall we go then, milady?" Michael asked, affecting an awkward British accent.

"Yes, we shall."

---

The atmosphere was energetic, lively, while a hint of curiosity hung in the air. Mia found herself entering the ballroom of Duchess Grace's expansive mansion, hand in hand with Adam. The room was beautifully decorated, soft lights glowing down on the duchess's guests. A few waltzes in the ballroom were to be proceeded by a twelve-course dinner. As Adam and Mia reached the dance floor, she couldn't help but feel a certain sense of uneasiness.

As soon as they had entered, almost everyone in the room turned to look at Mia and Adam, a certain meddlesome air. They, of course, knew that Mia was the princess of Genovia, the granddaughter of the dowager princess, Clarisse Renaldo. And Adam Carrick was the son of one of the richest and most successful businessmen in Europe. Not to mention, many of the women in the room thought, one of the handsomest.

What they didn't all know before tonight was that Mia Thermopolis Renaldo and Adam Carrick were…_a couple_. Mia smiled at Adam as they danced. She closed her eyes as they glided gracefully across the dance floor. It was around the time that they had reached the orchestra when Mia opened her eyes and gasped in shock.

For, playing the violin was none other than Boris Pelkowski, sweater tucked into his pants and all. And watching him dreamily from a small table near the orchestra was none other than _Tina Hakim Baba_. Then, Mia reminded herself, they were married now. Boris and Tina Pelkowski. The thought made her uneasy.

Boris had his eyes shut as he played the violin with such remarkable ease. Tina didn't seem to notice that Mia was mere feet in front of her. Mia halted the dancing. Adam, caught off-guard, nearly slipped. "_Adam_," Mia hissed softly, her eyes still on the daydreaming Tina. "I _know _that woman…" She gestured toward Tina. Adam turned around to look at who she was talking about, obviously bemused.

"Why don't you go talk to her then?" Adam said, turning back to face Mia. Taking a deep breath, Mia slowly walked in Tina's direction, holding Adam's hand loosely. As they reached her table, Tina looked up at the couple. Then her eyes widened in realization and she opened her mouth to speak. But nothing came out.

"Tina…" Mia said slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Hi, Mia!" Tina exclaimed, almost too excitedly. The last time they had seen each other had been four years before, the day Mia had left for college. Both of them had had tears raining from their eyes as they stood inside of the cool airport, hugging. Lilly wouldn't stop obsessing over the fact that she wouldn't be able to see Mia as much. in Europe, though not at the same place where Mia was heading for.

"How…how have you been?" Mia said. She was happy, though surprised, that Tina wasn't taking on the positively horrible manner Lilly had with her weeks before. No, Tina looked _thrilled _to see Mia again after not seeing her for such a long amount of time.

"I've been really great," Tina said, looking down at her diamond wedding ring, which was sparkling and pear-shaped. It gleamed under the effulgent lighting, the soft blue sky peaking through the long, royal blue curtains that covered the long, arch-shaped windows. "I got married three months ago…I sent you an invitation but I don't know if you ever got it. I didn't know the address to your dorm room so I addressed it out to the palace."

Mia thought guiltily of the secretaries at the palace. They threw away any and all of the letters that looked vaguely suspicious to them. And Tina's curly handwriting may have raised an eyebrow or two. "Oh. I didn't get it," Mia said, not noticing that she had let go of Adam's hand. "But if I had known about it, I definitely would've flown out." Tina smiled and nodded, her gaze landing on Adam.

"Oh! Um. Tina, this is my boyfriend, Adam," Mia said almost airily. "Adam, this is my good friend, Tina. We used to go to high school together." Adam smiled. "Hi, Tina," he offered, feeling slightly awkward.

"It's hard to believe that one day you two were high school sweethearts and the next…Well…you're married," Mia said, smoothing down her soft, gossamer dress. Tina, Mia noticed, was wearing an extravagantly stunning soft pink dress that vaguely reminded Mia of her own prom dress that she had worn freshman year. But Tina's, she knew, was much more beautiful than hers had been.

"I think I was afraid that he would meet some female virtuoso at Julliard but we managed to stay together," Tina said. She herself had attended Columbia. Every time she had seen Michael walking with a friend around campus, she was instantly reminded of how he had broken Mia's heart that warm autumn day. Mia had avoided Tina and Lilly's calls but Helen had soon filled them in on what had happened. After Lilly found out, she had kicked Michael in the place where the sun didn't shine, so to speak.

---

As soon as they entered the ballroom, all eyes landed on Mia and Michael. For a few seconds anyway. After scanning Michael, as they didn't know him, the guests at the ball all resumed what they had been doing before they had entered. "Tough crowd," Michael said, which proceeded with a light, carefree laugh from Mia. "So, what do you want to do first? Grab some, uh, food or—" Michael wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste "—dance?"

"Let's dance," Mia said, smiling. Michael shrugged and led Mia to the dance floor, a grin playing on his slightly full, reddish lips. They danced serenely across the dance floor, never breaking their gaze into each other's eyes. Michael's peat bog eyes were filled with happiness and good humor. Even if he wasn't ecstatic at being at such a fancy ball, dancing with Mia made it all better in his opinion. The ballroom was bright—overly bright—with gorgeous floral arrangements decorating the room.

Summer was Michael's favorite season. The air was always perfectly hot and humid, a perfect excuse for staying inside all day, surfing the Internet. Which is what he usually ended up doing when he wasn't out with Mia, arguing with his sister, or walking Pavlov around the block. "So, this isn't too bad, is it?" Mia asked, smiling. Michael took a moment to ponder her question and decided that no, it wasn't.

"It's really…beautiful here," Michael said, thinking of nothing else to say. Mia nodded and rested her head on Michael's shoulder. He smelled particularly nice, Mia noted. Along with his usual soapy smell, she detected a hint of cologne. And then she felt ridiculous for thinking about how he smelled_. In his mind, Michael replaced the classical music the orchestra was playing with a song that he had recently written called "Pessimistic Paranoia."_

He slowly swayed with Mia in time to the music when the song stopped. Mia smiled into Michael's neck while the guests around them stopped dancing, wondering why the orchestra had stopped playing. Michael was about to open his mouth to ask Mia why she thought they had stopped when he heard the familiar opening chords to one of his favorite songs.

"You arranged this, didn't you, Mia?" Michael said, a bright smile on his face. She chose to not respond, instead lightly kissing Michael's neck. The orchestra played the song with such ease that it instantly calmed Michael's nerves. He began to sing to Mia, and only Mia.

Thank you and hang up the phone 

Let the funeral start

Hear the casket close, let's pin

Split-black ribbon onto your overcoat

But laughter pours from under doors in this house

I don't understand that sound no more

It seems artificial like a TV set

_Mia looked up into Michael's eyes before he drowned himself in the chorus. _

Haligh, haligh, a lie, haligh

The weight, it must be satisfied

You offer only one reply

You know not what you do

But you tear and tear your hair from roots

From that same head you have twice removed

A lock of hair you said would prove

Our love would never die

Well ha, ha, ha

- - -

He had missed Mia. He had missed the way her charcoal gray eyes lit up when she solved an Algebra problem correctly, the way her nostrils flared whenever she fibbed. He loved how she was always so kind and modest, not knowing how truly beautiful and amazing she was. Mia was one of those people that were pure and warm, the kind of person you could talk to about your troubles and he or she would talk you through your problem until everything was solved and you were happy again.

So, as he nuzzled Shayne's neck, his mind was too busy racing with thoughts to think about Mia or any of her amazing qualities. He didn't even know why he and Shayne were hooking up. All he knew that was he too drunk to care and would probably forget the next morning. Shayne had had a couple too many drinks as well, judging by the way her breath had more than a hint of Lager in it.

"Mmm, Michael," Shayne moaned, caressing his back. "I love you. I never stopped loving you." Michael didn't reply because he was too busy kissing her neck to respond. But also because he was _afraid _to speak. He certainly didn't want to say anything that he would regret in the morning.

"Do…Do you love me?" Michael stopped kissing her and looked away. Truth be told, he had never loved Shayne. Liked her, maybe. Yes, as a friend. But never more than that. As a relationship, Michael had always seen Shayne as someone he could snuggle with on a cold night or have amazing hookups with. But he had never taken their brief relationship seriously. It had always been something to do.

He just didn't want to be alone.

- - -

A/N: "Haligh, Haligh, A Lie, Haligh" is by the amazing Bright Eyes. I could only wish that I owned that song.


	9. beautiful things can come from the dark

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Nine: beautiful things can come from the dark

A/N: Now that school has ended and summer vacation has begun, I will hopefully be able to update quickly and more often. I hope you like this chapter.It's a bit shorter than the others though.

---

"You want to stay at the Plaza."

"Um. Yeah."

"And your reasons are, again?" Mia asked, biting her bottom lip. Adam and Mia sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, peering into each other's eyes. "You're…I mean, you're not trying to get away from me, are you?" Adam's eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head.

"No! No. Of course not, Mia," Adam said, his emerald green eyes downcast as he stirred his cup of coffee, looking for something to do with his hands, to take away his nervousness. "I…well, I just think it'd be better if I stayed at the Plaza." Mia raised an eyebrow.

"Better?" Mia echoed. "What do you mean by better?"

"For…For our relationship," Adam said, still looking down at his coffee.

"In other words, you want more privacy," Mia said flatly, her eyes still on Adam.

"Well…Yeah," Adam said admittedly, forcing himself to look up at Mia. Her gray eyes, he noted morosely, were sad. She must've, he thought, really thought that he wanted to get away from her. But it was the exact opposite, of course. He loved her but he just needed to get away from the loft. For the last few weeks, he hadn't been himself. He had tried to act like the Adam that everyone knew and hopefully liked. But that wasn't him. Not entirely, anyway.

"Okay," Mia said simply. Easy as that. _Okay_.

"Are you sure you're not upset?" Adam said, his electric eyes warm and careful. Mia nodded, stuffing a piece of her blueberry muffin into her mouth. Adam smiled and leaned forward, kissing her mouth softly. Mia noticed with slight disgust that he smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke.

"Have you already packed your bags?" Mia questioned, dusting the crumbs leftover from the blueberry muffin off of the table, onto the spotless kitchen floor. Adam took her hands from across the table, concentrating on her short, but manicured, fingernails.

"Adam?" Helen said from the entrance to the kitchen. "There's a limo here for you. Adam looked to Mia and smiled, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.

"I'll call you tonight," Adam said, beaming. "And we can arrange dinner plans for tonight, okay?"

"All right," Mia said, not wanting Adam to leave on such short notice. Or leave at all. Helen smiled at the couple before heading back to her bedroom, where Frank was watching a documentary on jellyfish. The couple rose from their seats and walked to the exit to the kitchen.

"I love you, Mia," Adam said. He cupped her face, planting several small kisses onto her lips. Mia grinned.

"I love you too, Adam," Mia said, pecking his cheek.

"Bye," Adam said softly. He smiled before walking toward the entrance to the loft. He smirked back at her before opening the door and leaving the loft. Her lips burned where Adam had kissed her, so softly, so tenderly. Her normally cold hands were still warm from his grasp.

"Bye, Adam."

---

"Can you drum a little louder, Kristen?" Michael hissed into the microphone. Mission for Recognition was practicing for their headlining tour, which would be starting in a mere two weeks. In fact, the kickoff show would be on Michael's twenty-fourth birthday. Michael felt oddly nervous as the prospect of going out on tour, riding on a tour bus with four other people. One of them being a person he desperately needed to cool off his relationship with.

"So, you're starting with 'Darkest Rose?'" Warren Semple asked from across the room, sipping a glass of red wine as he watched Mission for Recognition practice. They had so far been practicing for nearly a half-hour with not much progress. Kristen drummed much too softly while Michael seemed to want to appear broody so his vocals were too growly and not very understandable. He noticed, though, that Max was playing with newfound enthusiasm.

"Yeah, that or 'Reoccurring Kind,'" Michael uttered into the microphone, a small smirk playing on his pink lips. Warren nodded lazily as Michael's personal assistant wrote down notes beside him.

"Michael. Stop trying to act all troubled and shit," Warren said, his eyes rolling like cherries in a slot machine. "We all know that you come from a relatively wealthy family with some penthouse apartment." Michael shot Warren a glaring look before speaking into the microphone.

"Okay, let's play…'Pessimistic Paranoia.'"

---

****

MISSION FOR RECOGNITION Track Listing

Darkest Rose

Reoccurring Kind

Pessimistic Paranoia

The Nonexistent Girl Finds Her Way Back

Aiming for Ailema

Wishing for Nothing

Look My Way

Empty Glances and Stares

Keeping the Night

Brand My Name

Falling Away

---

They had planned to meet up at seven-thirty for a nice dinner in an elegant Italian restaurant. Mia lightly drummed her fingers on the glass-covered table, her eyes on the entrance to the restaurant. It was seven forty-five and Adam had yet to show up. She had chosen an amazing outfit to wear and if he didn't appear soon, he'd never get to see it.

"May I take your order, miss?" asked the waiter, a glowing smile on his tan face. "Or are you waiting for someone?" Mia opened her mouth to respond but at that exact moment, Adam burst into the door, a serious look on his face. He spoke to the concierge and then saw Mia. A warm look replaced his former seriousness and he walked over to Mia. He swiftly swooped down and kissed her cheek before taking the seat from across her.

"Uh, I'll have pasta with prego sauce, Parmesan cheese, and no meat," Mia said, looking up at the waiter. "And…a glass of iced tea, I guess. Thanks." The waiter nodded and then turned to Adam.

"And you, mister?"

"I'll have the same," Adam said. The waiter took both of their menus and walked toward the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" Mia said quietly, taking a roll from the basket of bread on the center of the round table.

"There was a lot of traffic," Adam said, reaching for Mia's hand across the table. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mia said, whose right hand was now enclosed in Adam's. He caressed her thumb, using the other hand to hold up a glass of water to his lips. The buttered roll melted slowly in her mouth as she took in the sight of Adam, his hair perfectly ruffled, his verdant eyes deep and spirited. He really was very beautiful, Mia thought. There were a few short moments of painful silence before Adam broke it.

"So. What did you do today, Mia?" Adam asked, pulling his hand back to his side from Mia's. Mia looked bemused as she stared at her empty hand on the dark blue clothed table. "Nothing," Mia said quietly, pulling her hand back to her lap as Adam watched her every movement with somewhat less vivacity than he once had.

"I just wrote some more of my novel and played with Rocky," Mia said in a shockingly cool voice. So, she hadn't written a full-length novel by the time she was twenty, like she had planned when she was fifteen. But she had finished a little less than the Young Adult novel she had started when she was seventeen. Before then, Mia had concentrated on writing articles and short stories for _The Atom_, Albert Einstein High School's newspaper. She had even gone on to become the editor-in-chief of the newspaper her senior year.

"Oh. That's rad," Adam said, almost encouragingly. The conversation wasn't going as well he had hoped. "I settled into one of the larger suites at the Plaza. It's actually a floor or two beneath Clarisse's. And I saw Michael Z pacing outside, waiting for a cab or something. I didn't say 'Hi' though."

"That's…cool," Mia said, still partially irritated that Adam had chosen to stay at the Plaza instead of at her mom and stepdad's apartment. She thought sadly of the empty guest room which still smelled like Adam, of coffee, cigarettes, and burnt leaves, the scent she longed to smell everyday when she woke up.

"I guess so," Adam said. Mia was surprised at the sheer awkwardness of the conversation, the long pauses. She felt suffocated and that was never something she had expected to feel when she was with Adam.

She sighed, fingering her snowflake necklace.

---

If I didn't care about you

Would you still care about me?

If I drank until I slept

Would you still think about me?

You glance my way

And I can't help but stare back

It may be carved in stone but

I still want you

I still need you

--Excerpt from "Empty Glances and Stares" by Mission for Recognition

---

"Hello?"

"Hi, Michael!"

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie. It's mom. We were all just wondering if…"

"Yeah?"

"Could you come back to the apartment so we can give you your Hanukkah presents? I forgot to when you visited two weeks ago."

"Oh! Hanukkah?"

"Yes…Hanukkah…You know, the Jewish holiday celebrated over a course of eight days in which—"

"Mom. I know what Hanukkah is."

"Of course you do, Michael."

"Okay, so I'll come by tomorrow."

"Around seven?"

"Yeah. Seven's fine. Bye."

"Michael."

"Yeah?"

"Have you been wearing thick layers to protect yourself from the cold? I know how your skin can—"

"Mom!…"

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. Bye."

"Bye, Michael."

---

"Oh…my…God." Those three words pretty much summed up the thoughts of Mission for Recognition when they entered the Plaza to see it had been "magically transformed" in the time they had been rehearsing across town for the Glances and Stares Tour. The fountain in the middle of the lobby had been replaced with a simply enormous Christmas tree, though the reception desk was encircled with Menorahs. Red and green garlands hung loosely around the room, above the fireplaces and drowning the tree.

"Now I feel like an outcast for being Jewish," Michael said sarcastically, looking up at the ceiling. Red, green, and white balloons covered the usually beautiful ceiling. They looked rather menacing; He was afraid that they might come untied and kill them all.

"You're not alone, Michael," David murmured as soft fake snowflakes fell down onto their heads, covering their hair with shimmering flakes of fake snow.

"So, who wants to come over to the Moscovitz apartment and see what Hanukkah gifts I've gotten?" Michael said, leading them toward the elevator. The elevator doors opened and they all went inside. Michael pressed the button for the fifth floor. The elevator stopped at the fourth floor. The doors opened and Michael gasped at what he saw.

Adam and Mia were kissing, their arms wrapped around each other.

---

**A/N: **You know what to do.


	10. does he kiss your eyelids in the morning...

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Ten: does he kiss your eyelids in the morning?

A/N: Haha, you think that Adam and Max are gay lovers? I could totally make a sequel with that…Who knows?

Aim = Mia backwards.

Ailema = Amelia backwards.

Tee-hee.

Thanks for reviewing, my lovely mamacitas. I love you all.

---

The scenario played in her mind like a cheesy romantic film. Adam and Mia had suffered through dinner. Trying to salvage the night, Mia had offered to go to Adam's penthouse at the Plaza and check it out. They had shared a pot of black coffee, diluted with plenty of milk and sugar. They had then retreated to the living room area. Adam had tried his best to start a conversation which, in the end, resulted in them basically hooking up while their coffee grew cold. An hour later, after Adam had copped many a feel, Adam had walked her out to the elevator.

"Mia, I don't know what was up with me at dinner at tonight," Adam said, running a hand through his chestnut hair. "But, I'm sorry." Mia smiled slightly, shrugging her shoulders. She could feel the lipgloss smeared across her face, her smile in part of the gloss that was smeared across Adam's chin. His skin was oddly soft for not having shaved since the morning, his green eyes lit up wonderfully.

She chose not to speak, instead cupping his face and meeting her lips with his. It was odd how things could change from awkward to amazing with Adam and Mia. It had been the same way the year they had first met. Some days, Mia had felt odd eating out with Adam, though only as friends. She had felt even more gauche when another female had joined them. Mia thought vaguely of the long-term girlfriend Adam had broken up with the year that he had met Mia.

Julia had been, Mia felt, the antithesis of herself. She had been, simply put, a babe. She had the most amazing long, silky dark hair and a killer pair of…azure eyes. She had been perfectly petite, weighing in at one hundred pounds at five foot. She had had surprisingly long legs though, which had been perfectly tanned. She wasn't the nicest person in the world but Mia felt that her utter confidence had made up for that. And she had always thought that what Adam had looked for in a girlfriend was an intelligent, confident woman that he could have an intellectual conversation with.

In other words, she felt, someone that wasn't like Mia. Adam's mouth was succulent, reminding Mia of a ripe peach. She sighed softly as they kissed, their arms wrapped around each other. They continued kissing until they heard a cough.

Their mouths broke apart and Mia turned bright crimson when she saw all of the members of Mission for Recognition in the elevator, Michael looking the most surprised. She found it unbelievably odd how she kept bumping into Michael at the most random of times, in the most random of places. But, then again, both Adam and MfR were staying at the Plaza. Adam seemed somewhat pleased though. He gave Mia one last kiss, waved at the band with a nervous glance, and then slowly walked back to his apartment, glancing back every now and then until he walked in the door.

Mia shuffled into the elevator, looking down at her feet.

"What floor?" asked a voice from beside her. Mia reluctantly looked up, a somewhat befuddled expression on her face. The girl with the dark, choppy layered hair, the group's bassist or something, indicated the floor buttons.

"Oh," Mia said. "Lobby. Thanks." She could feel the heat of Michael—she _knew_ it was Michael—coming off from behind her. He smelled pleasantly of soap, like he always had ever since she had met him, and woodsy cologne. But it really was odd that they had both arrived in New York at the same time. Mia decided, with a sigh, that it must've been fate, though she had never really believed in those kinds of things.

Michael grew exceeding nervous as he stood behind Mia, taller than her by three or four inches. He couldn't describe how she looked or how she smelled without thinking that if you were to touch her, her skin would probably be silky soft. Her scent was distinctly feminine, of flowers and a sprinkling of baby powder.

It surprised him that performing in front of a crowd of ten thousand or doing an interview for a television show didn't make him jittery but simply standing behind his first girlfriend—his ex-girlfriend—could make him feel so fucking nervous. Michael tapped his fingers on his thighs, his dark eyes closed. There was a small ring and the elevator doors opened to reveal the fifth floor. The rest of his band members got out but Michael stood where he was, fearing that his legs wouldn't be able to move. Slowly, calmly, he walked around Mia.

He turned around, her beautiful gray eyes meeting his brown ones. "Hey, Mia," Michael managed to murmur before the doors closed between them, in more ways than one.

---

_"Lilly? Can you tell mom and dad that I stopped by?" Michael asked, standing outside of his younger sister's bedroom. He had knocked quite a few times but he heard no response. He impatiently knocked louder. "Lilly? Hello?" It had been a week since he had broken up with Mia and the wounds he felt were still fresh. He regretted it—God, did he regret it—but he figured it was for the best. He hadn't even offered her an explanation as to why he had broken up with her._

It seemed insensitive of him to have broken up with her over the phone but he feared that if he had broken up with her in person, he would begin to cry just looking at Mia's innocent, beautiful face. Not that he was ever one to cry, of course, but he could only imagine what Mia had felt when she had picked up the phone, not knowing what was about to happen.

He was going to Hell. Michael was almost sure of it. "Fuck off, asshole," Lilly said after what seemed like hours. Well, he wasn't exactly appreciative of her reply but at least she was home, instead of leaping off the roof of the apartment or something. Lilly had been extra bitchy ever since she had caught wind of his breakup with Mia. She wasn't about to let him forget it anytime soon, he knew.

Michael walked to the kitchen, taking a muffin from the tray on the island. He bit into it when he heard the phone ring. His heart skipped, wondering if it was Mia. But then he felt confused, because he wasn't supposed to care whether or not his ex-girlfriend was calling her best friend, his younger sister. He sat down at the kitchen table, scanning the warm peach walls. A new calendar, one featuring an assortment of animals, was next to the bright blue clock that hung over the doorway. Someone, his mom probably, had set a small vase of gardenias on the windowsill above the kitchen sink.

Michael rose from his chair and threw away the remains of his poppyseed muffin. The sky was surprisingly radiant, the sun's rays cascading down on the buildings and people below. Michael ruffled his hair and left the kitchen, heading for the door to the apartment. He opened it and a confused look appeared almost immediately onto his face.

Mia stood there, her blond hair flowing down to her shoulders like strands of gold, or so Michael saw it. Her extraordinary gray eyes were filled with confusion, hurt, anger, sadness. Her skin was softly pale, glowing like an angel. If he could do what he wanted, not what was best, he would have grabbed Mia's shoulders, pulled her forward, and kissed her with every ounce of emotion that he had.

There was a certain emptiness in the look that Mia gave him before brushing by, walking to Lilly's room. Michael stood there for a long time, thinking about that one single, almost pitiful, look she had given him. When he realized what he should have done, it was too late.

---

"Michael! Wake up!"

"Go 'way," Michael mumbled thickly, his chocolate eyes filled with siesta. He hadn't been able to get to sleep until three the night before and he was paying for it as the rest of the bandmates nagged him to get up, as it was time to get to rehearsal. "Michael, get your ass out of bed or else I will seriously kick your balls," Kristen hissed into Michael's ear, shaking his shoulders roughly.

"We need to get to rehearsal!" David called from the other room, where he was sipping coffee with Max as they both watched the Food Network. Shayne stood lazily in the doorway, her side resting along the wall. She wore an attention-grabbing black top that showed off her midriff. Just not in a Britney Spears-ish way. She was half-Japanese, short at around 5'1," with stunning azure eyes.

"Fine, fine," Michael grumbled, pulling his sheets down. His eyes grew wide. "What time is it?"

"Twelve," Shayne said from the doorway, a lopsided smile on her face. "Rehearsal's at 12:30, in case you forgot."

"Holy shit!" Michael said, literally jumping out of bed. He had almost pulled off his wifebeater when he noticed that Kristen and Shayne were still there, looking at him. "Um. Can you guys leave? So I can change…" Kristen grew red and turned away, walking out of the room. Shayne stood and walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

She walked up to Michael, planting a small, slightly wet kiss onto his full lips. He cracked a smile as she helped him get his wifebeater off, running her fingers lightly down his lean, though quite built, chest. She planted kisses down his stomach, gently fingering the elastic of his boxers. Shayne rose, shooting Michael a sultry look.

"We'll meet you out there, okay?" Shayne said, her eyes sparkling. Michael nodded his head, looking bemused.

---

The apartment smelled wonderfully of chocolate chip pancakes and warm maple syrup. Mia was curled up in the royal blue armchair in the living room, reading the latest issue of _Spin_. Mission for Recognition were on the cover of the magazine, their Best Band of the Year issue, though Mia chose not to skip immediately to the headlining article, instead focusing on an article about Julian Casablancas of The Strokes supposedly reuniting with Juliet Joslin, the assistant manager to The Strokes, whom he had been engaged to years before. But they had realized that they couldn't get married and had called off the wedding the week before.

Mia closed the magazine, keeping her thumb on the page she had been reading. She couldn't stop staring at the cover of the magazine, which featured the band all wearing leather jackets, reminding her vaguely of the Ramones, except for the fact that there were two girls in the group and Michael was no Joey Ramone. None of them were smiling except Michael, who had the smallest trace of a grin on his face.

She felt confused to say the least. She wasn't supposed to care about her ex-boyfriend from high school anymore. He was supposed to be in the past. She wasn't supposed to feel the way she still might have felt about him. Maybe it was because her love for him had been so strong. Plus, Mia had never really stopped loving him, even if she convinced herself that it was a platonic love.

Wasn't it?

---

**_MISSION FOR RECOGNITON_**

There is a certain amount of unusual anticipation in the air as the crowd, a diverse group of people ranging from men in cat suits to women with afros, as they wait for Mission for Recognition to hit the stage. A number of celebrities in "disguise" can be spotted, ranging from Z Berg [Madden] of The Like and Mickey Madden of Maroon 5, to Princess Amelia of Genovia (though not even trying to disguise herself) with Adam Carrick, son of Europe's number one businessman. The concert's proceeds will go to one of the group's favorite charities, the Save the Whales foundation. Phantom Planet was scheduled to open for the band (odd, seeing as how PP was around for over a decade before Mission for Recognition burst onto the scene) but Alex Greenwald, Phantom Planet's lead singer, came down with the flu at the last minute.

The crowd continues to grow restless, waiting for Michael Z to walk onto the stage with the rest of the band. The crowd suddenly grows louder as the owner of the club says into a microphone, "Ladies and gentleman, from Manhattan, Mission for Recognition!" Cheers and applause erupt as Michael Z, 23, walks onto the stage, followed by the rest of the band. He smiles back at Shayne Osborn, 23, as she says something. Funny, we all guess, as he laughs and then looks forward again.

The group seems completely calm and tranquil. Michael walks up to the microphone, his guitar strapped over his neck. He introduces the band (as if anyone in the crowd has any doubt to who they are) and they proceed to play their first single, "Reoccurring Kind." The women in the crowd swoon as Michael sings in his pleasantly low, growly voice. He's shaking his hips, doing odd arm gestures, but the crowd is feeding off of them immensely.

Critics have claimed that Michael Z is the male equivalent of Karen O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but without the beer spewing and the microphone swallowing. He has raw energy that keeps the crowd alive and thriving. The most bizarre of grins clouds his face as he touches his microphone almost inappropriately.

If you were to look at Mission for Recognition, you'd probably pass them off as another Strokes or Von Bondies. But if you were to do so, you'd be horribly mistaken. For Mission for Recognition has a style all their own. They're terribly original, which you probably wouldn't expect from these five Manhattan kids.

Two weeks before the Arienette concert, Mission for Recognition and I had an interview concerning the new album, being away from home, selling out, their new-found fame, Michael's sex symbol status, and David's love for photography. They were staying at a penthouse in one of Los Angeles' largest hotels, all sipping soda or beer.

"There's something about Michael Z that is so fucking amazing," says the weirdo punk goddess herself, Karen O. "That guy just has so much energy and can be a maniac onstage. He's also fucking beautiful." All of Mission for Recognition's fans can probably agree with that.

Michael Z, like Karen O, is much different offstage than he is on. Onstage, Michael can do the craziest, sexiest things, earning screams of, "Oh, my GOD! Michael! I want to have all of your babies!" But offstage, he can be simply described as an intelligent, sarcastic, sometimes moody young man. The 23-year-old and his bandmates started Mission for Recognition in his senior year at Columbia University in New York, where he majored in biology.

"It's weird," Michael says in his deep, somewhat soothing voice, a nervous grin on his face. He looks exactly like he does in photos and videos: oddly handsome, dressed in dark—sometimes eccentric—clothing, tall, his hair perfectly messy, flopping casually in his dark brown eyes. He closely resembles a younger Robert Carmine, though with different colored eyes and hair. "Onstage, I'm totally different than how I am when I'm just relaxing with friends. It may be schizophrenia. I just think that there are so many layers to—" He pauses to gulp down his beer, "—Michael Z. I'm mostly just that quiet dude who can be opinionated and often sarcastic. But when I get onstage…I don't know. I just go crazy. There's just this certain rush being up onstage with these lights practically blinding you, people there just to see your band. It's rad."

"I can attest for that," pipes up Kristen Taylor, the band's perfectly cute, petite drummer. She's wearing a pale pink floral dress under one of her many leather jackets. She has a high-pitched, though not annoying, voice and a hiccupy laugh. "I think that the only people that act like they do onstage as they do offstage are Max and me. Max is as vibrant and enthusiastic playing his guitar as he is when he's just talking and shit. And I can get fucking aggressive on those drums and I can get pretty aggressive offstage too." Kristen and Max Conor, the band's guitarist, laugh, glancing at each other.

They don't know it yet but they have been declared the year's best band in _Spin_. I am quick to inform them.

"Holy shit!" exclaim Max and Shayne Osborn, Mission for Recognition's powerful bass guitar goddess, their jaws dropped. "You're kidding!" I assure them all that I am most certainly not kidding but they don't seem to believe me. Debuting only earlier that year, they're shocked, to say the least.

"I can't wait to tell my mum," Kristen, who is half-British on her mother's side, says, a brilliant grin plastered onto her face. After getting over their surprise, the band goes back to how they were acting when the interview began: happy, tired, and slightly nervous. "I still can't believe it," David Richards, the powerful keyboardist, murmurs, setting his can of soda down on the coffee table in front of them.

Shayne begins to braid Kristen's long, straight blonde hair as the interview ventures into the topic of selling out. "We started this band two years ago with the intention of getting our music out to the public," Michael says. "Our goal was always to be mainstream. Not like that prepackaged pop or unoriginal crap out there though. We wanted to be heard. So, it doesn't make sense for people—fans, mostly—to be calling us sellouts because all we ever wanted was to share our music was as many people as possible…Anyone who was willing to listen." His fellow bandmates seem to agree with this.

"And now that we've reached our goal, so many people are, um, 'hating' on us, you know?" Shayne says in her raspy, bedroom voice. "People just don't seem to understand that we never wanted to be some mediocre college band that never got anywhere. We wanted the same things that so many other bands have wanted and we worked hard to reach our objectives. And it shows, I think, through our music and concerts."

"Fame is such a weird thing," Michael says, a half-grin playing on his full lips. "One day, you're just like every other normal guy. Getting through life as best as you can. Then, you and your band get signed to a major record label and suddenly everyone wants to be your best friend. I used to be like your average computer geek. But, then, overnight I became like a…"

"Sex god?" Kristen offers, trying not to giggle. Michael shrugs, downing the rest of his beer.

"Yeah. I guess. A sex god," Michael says, managing a straight face. The other members of the band start to crack up at Michael's seriousness. Michael makes a funny face and then he begins laughing as well.

David Richards, 21, usually labeled as the quiet one of the band, is showing me his collection of photographs and poetry. He used to, he says, take photography classes when he was in high school and college, though never taking it very seriously. "I take dozens of pictures at every single show. There'll be a hell of a lot more when we kick off the Glances and Stares Tour on January 5th."

"I've captured so many random events from the Mission for Recognition shows. There are a few from when Michael nearly fell offstage after downing one two many beers. Then, there are some others with Max and Kristen fully rocking out on the guitar and drums." David has fairly curly chestnut hair that runs down to his shoulders, a few strands masking his hazel eyes. He sees me eyeing his hair and smiles his carefree, casual smile.

"The guys all cut their own hair in the band," David says, shrugging. "Or they usually get me to cut their hair. Shayne and Kristen don't trust me snipping at their hair after I nearly cut off Shayne's ear giving her a trim before a show in Toronto." His hands, I notice randomly, are very smooth and…_pretty_. His nails are perfectly shaped and he catches me staring at them as well.

"It's like a rule that keyboardists must have nice hands," David offers, shuffling through some pictures from a previous Los Angeles show. "It's weird. Every keyboardist I've met doesn't have any calluses on their hands. Louie Stephens from Rooney has particularly nice hands."

"Shit, I must sound fucking stupid talking about hands," David says with a booming laugh. "Oh, here's us at Thanksgiving. It was spent at Kristen's parents' house up in Maine. It's gorgeous there. I don't think Mrs. Taylor would mind me saying this but she almost burned the turkey. Mr. Taylor saved it just in time."

Though quite soft-spoken, David is always ready to supply large amounts of information about every photo that he has ever taken. He occasionally cracks a joke, smiling his shy smile. His infectious laugh makes up for his quiet voice though. Richards grew up in Dallas, Texas, so his voice carries a light accent. He began playing the piano at age five, later giving it up at age seven for the guitar. When he realized how much he loathed playing the guitar, Richards went back to playing the piano.

Richards met Michael Z in his history class at Columbia University in New York. They soon bonded over their dislike for the class's instructor. Michael had been in a high school rock band called Skinner Box while Richards had played the keyboards for a band of three during his freshman year of college, which later disbanded during an argument over who got to play a musical solo. Z later met Kristen Taylor on campus purely by accident: Taylor had been rushing to a class when she bumped into Z. Z noticed the drumsticks in Taylor's backpack and what would soon become Mission for Recognition evolved.

Shayne Osborn, 23, had been the neighbor of Richards as a child. Richards remembered how good Osborn had been playing the bass and called her up, wondering if she would join the then unnamed group. Max Conor, 21, had been working at a Chinese takeout place, where Z frequently went. They soon began talking and Z was pleased to learn that Conor was amazing on the guitar.

And so, Mission for Recognition formed. Though, they went through several names before finally settling on the perfect one. Such names include: The Bathtub Cuffers, Get In My Pants, The Blender Brigade, and The Haze. "The Bathtub Cuffers was always my personal favorite," David says with a light laugh.

The quintet's first gig was opening for Rooney in June two years ago at Los Angeles' Troubadour. "As soon as they hit the stage, you could just tell that they weren't from around there," says Robert Carmine of Rooney. "Mission for Recognition just…I don't know…seemed to _ooze _with attitude and confidence."

"We've improved a lot since our first show," David says, scanning a picture of Osborn and Z smiling, beers in hand. "I think that anyone could see that. I don't mean to say that we were _horrible_ but…you know. Things changed for the better. Michael used to be much calmer onstage, to say the least."

"I don't think fame has gone too quickly to our heads. We're as equally enthusiastic about all of our shows; we never get tired of signing autographs or taking pictures with the fans. Certain things just don't get old, especially when you're doing something that you really love."

When Mission for Recognition's self-titled debut album came out earlier this year, the band took the world by storm. "We never realized how successful we would end up being, I don't think," David says casually. Their music seemed reminiscent of so many already popular bands such as Rooney, Phantom Planet, The Strokes, even vaguely of Bright Eyes. But there was something original about the music. The honest, refreshing lyrics paired with the sometimes hard rock, other times soft, mellifluous music made for an introspective, amazing album.

"A lot of the songs on the album our about my own personal experiences, as well as others', and fantasies, I guess you could say," Z says. "A good number of the songs are actually about this one girl I used to know…I mean, I haven't talked to her in years but I don't go a day without thinking about her. We'd known each other for years before we started to date. As cliché as it may sound, she was my first love. And people tend to write about their first loves, don't they?"

"'Empty Glances and Stares' is about the years that followed our breakup," Z says. "There was basically no way of avoiding seeing her. I mean, I don't want to give away too much information, in case she's reading, but every time we would look at each other, I think we both missed what once was."

"Keeping the Night" is what many of Mission for Recognition's fans claim to be the band's most personal song. In fact, Michael's voice trembles so often on the track that you wonder if he's about to weep. With lyrics such as, "You may be with that other man but I'm still yearning to feel your gaze," it's no wonder why the album is so critically acclaimed by the critics.

Z says of the track: "My voice was trembling because I had a cold the day we recorded it. No. Seriously."

The band is extremely close, which you can see by their constant hugs and random conversations. "We never get into fights," Conor says, a lazy smile on his face. "But if we do, it's always over something petty, like who needs to buy a new bottle of shampoo."

When asked if he ever knew he would end up being in a world famous rock band, Z is quick to reassure me. "Oh, definitely not," he says, stifling a laugh. "I was actually into science in high school. Like I said before, I was a complete computer geek. I never thought I'd be in this well-known rock band, much less selling millions of records with girls begging to be my groupies."

"I think my parents would've preferred that I go into science," he adds quickly. "They're psychoanalysts themselves. I mean, they're proud of me but I can't help but think what would've happened if I had stuck to computers and science."

"You'd probably be much more boring," Shayne says, smirking at the lead singer.

"Yeah. Probably," Michael says, rolling his dark eyes.

On a different subject, Michael is quick to speak up. "I've always been in love with love. There's just this certain excitement to knowing that somewhere out there, you have someone that is perfect for you. Love is so important in a world where war prevails and there are certain presidents with creepy fascist agendas."

"Michael, you're such a romantic, you stud," Kristen says, playfully shoving Michael.

"Hey, I guess I am. Romantic, I mean. Someone has to be, right? Anyway, the songs I write can be deeply personal. I just like knowing that I'm pouring my heart out to the world and they're actually listening."

---

A/N: Okay, I would've added the part with Michael and the band at his parents' house but this chapter was getting too long. Hope you didn't get too bored. Review. 3


	11. if you want to make a run for it, my lov...

**Chapter Eleven: if you want to make a run for it, my love, I'd cover you**

A/N: Haha, I've been postponing the reason for the breakup until later. Suspenseful, eh? You'll find out soon, though, so don't be too angry with me.

Sorry for the overly long wait. I hate writer's block. Hate it, hate it, _hate it_.

I love Tilly and the Wall. Love, love, _love _them.

I adore Adam Green. He is a shexay, shexxxay kangaroo.

(All of this may be irrelevant to the story but who fucking cares?"

Dedicated to Lucie. Like I said. Not a particularly amazing chapter but I didn't want to make you hunt me down and kill me in my sleep or something.

Things happen in this chapter. Big things.

---

Her tears streaked her pale cheeks as she stared sadly at the phone, her hands resting unintentionally over her heart. She heard Rocky singing Christmas carols from the other room, his voice delighted and exuberant, like a child's voice should be. Mia rose from her bed and opened her window. The cold winter air filled the room, freezing her salty tears. "Mia! Come and have some hot cocoa and cookies!" exclaimed Helen from the living room, where Mia supposed they were all sitting around the fireplace, gazing up at the Christmas tree every so often, basking in its artificial lights and glimmering ornaments.

Mia slowly opened her blinds, the streetlights below blinding her tired eyes. The streets were sparse with people, with the exception of an elderly couple walking their pet poodle and a young male lighting up a cigarette. Now that she thought about it, she didn't know why she had cried. The news wasn't as terribly upsetting enough to make her burst out in sobs like that.

"Mia," Adam had said in his usually calm, soothing voice. His deep voice calmed her nerves, it made her feel safe. How would she be able to live without hearing his voice? "Mia…I'm going back to Europe tomorrow. M-My mother is sick…My dad said that she's not doing well. She's been in the hospital for a week but my dad didn't want to worry me…I have to go back. I can't stay in America knowing that my mother…that she might…" Adam seemed unable to go on as his voice trembled. Mia stopped breathing.

"On Christmas Eve?" Mia asked, her voice uncharacteristically small. "You're leaving on Christmas Eve?"

"I…I have to," Adam said softly. "The only plane to Austria is tomorrow. The next flight won't be for another two weeks. Mia, believe me. Under any other circumstances, I would stay to celebrate Christmas and the New Year with you. But, you have to understand. My mother could _die_…"

Mia gasped for air as her pale eyes rained. "Mia, don't cry," Adam said patiently, sadly. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

"I-I need to see you," Mia murmured. "Before you go. I need to see you."

"The flight's at four in the morning, Mia," Adam said. "I don't want you to get up early just to see me off."

"I have to," Mia said. "I need to."

"Okay, Mia," Adam said. "Will I see you at the JFK airport? Around three?"

"Yes," Mia breathed.

"I love you, Mia."

"I love you too, Adam…" She paused and added with a whisper, "I love you too."

---

Adam carefully placed his belongings into one of his suitcases, piling the heavier items in before his softer, more fragile possessions. He looked up at the clock for a fraction of a second. It was midnight exactly and his plane was to leave in four hours. He needed to be ready to leave in little more than two hours and he was nearly finished packing his last suitcase. "Socks, boxers…" Adam murmured to himself, looking around the spacious bedroom.

"What am I forgetting?" He asked himself as he zipped up the suitcase and carried it, placing it next to the other luggage. He stood in front of the suitcases and bags, his mind tired with confusion and thoughts. He looked around the room, his brow furrowed. He paced around, looking for what he had forgotten, though he didn't know exactly what he _had_ forgotten. "Shit…"

With a small sigh, Adam sat down on his king-sized bed, taking in the atmosphere. This was his last day in New York. Or, rather, fraction of a day. He would be leaving the place he had come to fall in love with to go back to Europe. He'd miss the smell of New York, a mixture of hot dogs, urine, coffee, and smoke, though he didn't really know why. He looked out of the window, the sky pitch black except for the stars that dotted it.

He took a crumpled package of cigarettes from his coat pocket and put one to his lips. He lit it with his black lighter and closed his eyes. It was a horrible habit he had picked up back in school years ago. It had all started with him being stressed out not from schoolwork but from his first love. In the beginning of their two-year relationship, they had been so fascinated with each other. Soon into the relationship, Shelby had started becoming depressed. It seemed as if she no longer had the happiness that once filled her soul. She turned to drinking and drugs. Adam had been startled by Shelby's sudden personality change and realized that he didn't love her anymore.

The first time he had tried to break up with her, Shelby had pleaded for him to stay, crying the most he had ever seen anyone cry. The second time he tried to, she had threatened to commit suicide. He didn't want to be the cause of her untimely death so he stayed with her. This eventually led to Shelby being sent to a mental hospital. Adam missed her, of course he did, but he didn't love her anymore. He couldn't love her anymore.

But now, he was with Mia. Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo of Genovia. He loved her, he honestly did. She was one of the best things to happen to him, along with getting accepted to one of the most prestigious universities in Europe and becoming an uncle to his niece, Charlotte.

He looked around, exasperated, continuing to wonder what he had forgotten. And then, a lightbulb went off in his head and he walked to the nightstand beside his bed. He opened up the drawer and smiled slightly at the small blue box he had hidden under the standard Bible.

He took hold of the box, slowly opening it to reveal a pear-shaped diamond ring. The ring softly reflected the lights overhead, a wide spectrum of colors glowing from the diamond. He closed the tiny box and slipped it into his outer coat pocket, enjoying the sound it made.

He heard and felt his stomach grumble and walked over to the telephone, dialing room service.

--

Michael sat quietly at one of the booths in the Bluebird Lounge drinking his frosty glass of Jack Daniel's, though he would've preferred a bottle. To his current knowledge, Max was off on the dance floor, hooking up with random attractive girls as The Faint blasted in the background. Kristen was probably sipping a Bloody Mary (she, for the most part, disliked the taste of alcohol), while numerous horny men hit on her. David was off in a dark corner, obviously not feeling the whole club scene, probably thinking about his girlfriend. But his eyes kept on Shayne as she laughed with some suspicious-looking guy with _way _too much gel in his black hair.

She occasionally looked over at Michael, smiling her carefree smile. Michael wasn't sure whether to resume staring at her or try to save her from the big-nosed, greasy haired man, who reminded him of Professor Snape from the _Harry Potter _movies. Her hair shined under the bright fluorescent lights of the dance floor. The other parts of the club were kept dimly lit so Michael wasn't sure if he was visible to the others.

Shayne's cheeks were a soft, blushing pink, a permanent white smile lifting her face. Her hair was messy, so messy that Michael supposed she had messed it up on purpose. Her cerulean eyes were perfectly resplendent. It didn't take much to make Shayne happy or smile, which Michael found exciting. She was a naturally cheerful, exciting person with such amazing energy. She was different from his other ex-girlfriends (or, rather, girlfriends, for he did not know if he and Shayne where going out or not).

"Hey," Michael heard from his side. He turned and saw a tall girl with amazingly long, shiny chocolate hair. She had a smirk on her face, holding a bottle of beer in her hand. "I'm Jessica. What's your name?" She fluttered her eyelashes, taking the seat from across him.

"Oh. Um, I'm Michael," He said, quite baffled. He wasn't too used to people not recognizing him and was actually fairly surprised that he hadn't been approached for autographs yet. Jessica tipped her beer into her mouth, letting the chilled liquid hit her tongue.

"So, Michael, what's such a gorgeous guy like yourself doing alone on a Saturday night?"

"Well, I'm just here with my b—" Michael stopped himself before he could say 'band.' "My friends. Yeah. My friends." Jessica nodded, Michael not knowing if she was nodding at his response or keeping time with the music. "I'm not much of a clubber, to tell you the truth."

"Oh, yeah, neither am I," Jessica said, grinning. "I'm only here because my boyfriend broke up with me a week ago and I didn't want to spend a Saturday night alone. All of my friends are gone skiing or some other shit like that." She downed the rest of her beer and set the bottle down on the smooth glass table.

"Oh, that sucks," Michael said. "Getting dumped, I mean. Well, your friends being gone probably kind of sucks too but you know…" He stopped himself from rambling on by sipping his beer. He looked past Jessica for a slight moment and saw that Shayne was watching them, a suspicious look on her face.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much of a boyfriend anyway," Jessica said, looking out the small window above the booth. Michael followed her gaze out of the window and immediately spotted Orion.

"Have you ever wondered about the stars?" Michael muttered almost inaudibly.

"Every time I look out of my window," Jessica said, turning back to Michael. He faced her and saw a sight past her head that shocked him. Shayne was making out with Professor Snape. A disgusted look clouded his face as he watched Professor Snape slowly snake his hand up Shayne's red top. His eyes met Shayne's and her lips curled up into a trace of a smile. Jessica turned her head to see what—or _who_—Michael was staring at and saw Shayne making out with Professor Snape.

She turned back to Michael, a blank look on her face. "Is that one of your friends?" Jessica said.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh…Oh! You, um, you like her more than as a friend, I'm guessing?" Jessica said, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, I wouldn't…I mean, I don't—"

"No, no. I get it," Jessica said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "God, I always hit on hot, taken guys, don't I?" she added, lighting slapping her forehead.

"No, she's not my girlfriend," Michael said finally, exhaling. "We're just…"

"Let me guess: friends with benefits?" Jessica said.

"Yeah. Well, I guess you could say that," Michael said, realizing how refreshing it was to have a relationship with an attractive woman his age that wasn't after his fame or fortune. "We never really made anything official though." So, yes, he was telling a small fib. But _he _hadn't ever made anything official. Shayne did, apparently, by her former daily "I-love-yous" and affectionate kisses on the cheek.

She was trying to make him jealous by making out with a guy that closely resembled a young Professor Snape. Sure, he may have felt a twinge of jealousy but nothing to make him go postal and attack the poor, helpless guy. He looked away from Shayne and Snape and smiled at Jessica.

"You know, I think I have to go," Michael said, trying his best not to sound too rude. But he _desperately _needed to get out of there and _fast_. "I hope we meet again soon. You seem like a rad person." Jessica's cheeks flushed pink and she reached her hand out to shake Michael's.

"I live over in Greenwich," Jessica said. "It's a small blue house with a really unique parrot mailbox. Come over if you feel like it and we can hang out or something."

"Okay, sounds cool," Michael said. "Bye."

"Bye Michael." He grinned and got up from the booth. He walked past Shayne, rolling his eyes as their gaze met, and walked over to David, who appeared to be lost in thought. "Hey, David. I'm going to take a cab back to the Plaza. Want to come?" David looked up with a confused look, as if he had just noticed Michael standing before him.

"Sure," David said. "But what about the others?"

"They can take another cab later," Michael said. "Or we can just call them back when we get back to the Plaza."

"Okay," David said in a somewhat grateful voice. They left the club through the entrance, where burly security guards stood, looking ample and important. The air was warmer than usual, the sky lighter than it should have been on a standard winter day. But the stars shined as brightly as ever.

---

Mia felt sick. There was horrible traffic at exactly two-forty five in the morning and she was worried whether she'd be able to meet Adam in time. His flight was to leave at four a.m. but he had said to meet him at three. She slowly gnawed on her pinkie nail, ruining her perfectly manicured nails that she got done twice a month. She hadn't bitten her nails since her senior year and she didn't feel the need to start again.

"Can you hurry up?" Mia said to Cole, her driver. Lars sat across from her, his eyes shut as his head drooped down.

"I'm sorry, your Highness," Cole said from the driver's seat. "But the traffic hasn't been improving. I think that we might get there in twenty minutes at the earliest." Mia's face wrinkled. Twenty minutes was five minutes later than Mia was supposed to arrive at the JFK airport to see Adam off.

"All right," Mia said, forcing a small smile. So, when she finally arrived to the airport thirty minutes later, she was slightly irritated, but very much relieved to have gotten there before Adam's plane left. He had said that he would be at terminal 22. Mia looked up at the directions that hung overhead. She was at forty. With Lars behind her, she walked as fast as she could to 22.

"Mia!" Adam exclaimed when he looked up from _Catcher in the Rye _to see his girlfriend feet away from him, breathing heavily. She smiled a smile that reached her gray eyes. "Hi, Adam!" Mia managed to exclaim, sitting down next Adam. Adam looked up at Lars and saw the tired look on his face.

"Hey, Lars," Adam said. "Why don't you sit down and rest?"

"That's a good idea," Lars mumbled before perching down next to Mia and shutting his eyes.

"You're leaving," Mia said several seconds later. Adam shot her a confused look.

"Well. Yes. I am," Adam said. "I'm going to miss you so much. Really."

"I'm going to miss you more," Mia said.

"No, I'm going to miss you more," Adam said, a playful grin on his face.

"No, me," Mia said, thrilled to pieces.

"No, me," Adam said.

"How about we settle on that you'll miss each other a lot, but equally?" Lars said, his eyes still shut. Mia ignored him. She reached into her bag, her hand on her gift for Adam. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Merry Christmas…Eve." Adam took her free hand.

"Merry Christmas Eve."

"I have something for you," Mia said, taking Adam's present out of her bag. She handed it to him, a radiant look on her face. He looked down at it, surprised. "What is this?" Adam said, eyeing his present with utmost curiosity.

"It's a photo album with pictures of us, beginning with the week of that trip to Australia in our senior year," Mia said down at the album. She didn't want to admit that she had a lot more pictures than the ones that left no space in the photo album. Adam opened the album and immediately beamed at the first picture.

"I remember this," Adam said, scanning the picture of Adam, Mia, and their friend from the university, Taylor. "He had a crush on you, you know. During senior year," he added, pointing at Taylor. The shot was of the three of them in front of one of the university's many fountains, right before Taylor had pushed Adam into the fountain. Adam, though, had grabbed hold of Taylor and they both went splashing into the water while Mia tried unsuccessfully to not laugh.

"He did?" Mia said. Taylor had been one of the first people she had met at the university and they had bonded over their love for greasy Thai food and romantic comedies. "But he was with Robert that year. They were such a cute couple." Adam flipped to the next page, a picture of them at a club in Paris, laughing and talking at a small table.

Adam looked up at Mia. He reached inside his coat pocket. Mia gasped when she saw what was in his hand.

"Are you…are you…" He opened the case, revealing the shimmering diamond ring.

"It's a promise ring," Adam said, gazing down at the ring. He took her right hand and slipped the ring onto her ring finger. The bright lights from above made the diamond appear to be even more brilliant. "It's…It's beautiful," Mia said in a hushed whisper.

"You're beautiful," Adam said, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I love you, Adam," Mia whispered into his ear, her left hand stroking the beautiful ring.

"I love you."

They spent their last twenty-five minutes together talking about what they would do when Adam came back to America. The couple gazed into each other's eyes, wondering the next time that they would be able to do this. Just relax and hold each other's hands, sneaking the occasional kiss in public.

So when Adam got in line and was about to board the plane, he turned back to Mia with unmistakable tears in his eyes. Mia had already been crying for what seemed like ages as Adam stood tall and strong, her Adam. Her Adam was about to leave her alone, all alone, in New York. She felt a certain emptiness in the pit of her stomach as they kissed their last kiss for quite awhile.

"I'll miss you, Mia," Adam murmured, stroking her hair. She weeped and weeped and by the time she was done, he was already gone.


	12. i'll have a blue christmas without you

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Twelve: i'll have a blue christmas without you

A/N: Ga, thanks for pointing out the 'Mischa' in there, Lucie. I was trying to think up of names and Taylor was originally called Mischa. But then I thought of the Robert and Taylor thing and had to replace the 'Mischas' with Taylor. I must've missed that one.

Adam's out of the picture for now. Nothing extraordinarily interesting happens in this chapter but it's worth a read.

Uh, it's Christmas.

---

Even with the window open, she was unusually warm. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead as she kicked her covers to the floor, taking gasping breaths. Her body may have been hot but her lips remained as cold as ice. Her eyelashes were stuck together, a result of her salty tears mixing with the mascara she had packed on before driving down to the airport to see Adam off. She smelled artificial cherry, the chapstick she had slicked on right before she turned off the light, though it didn't seem to make the room any darker.

Mia vaguely remembered the day she had gone off on that plane to France, to the university. She had felt so excited, so overwhelmed, sad that she would be leaving her family and friends. Lilly, Tina, Shameeka, Ling Su, and Boris, as well as her immediate family, had all waved her goodbye as she went off onto a plane ride that would ultimately change her life. Not the plane ride itself, but the people and happenings that would follow.

She shifted her head, the alarm clock's glare hurting her eyes. Six a.m. The moon and the stars kept the room well lit. Mia reluctantly rose from her bed and picked up her Walkman from her shiny oak desk. She slipped the headphones onto her ears and pressed Play. Michael's mellifluous instantly filled her ears, clouding her head. She lazily strolled back to bed, scratching her arm with her bitten nails. She pressed the forward button until it reached track five, her new favorite song by Mission for Recognition. All of the elements of the song were absolutely amazing, from the soft and then hard drumming to the opening riff to the song.

I'm breathing like I did before I knew you

I'm listening like I did before I heard your name

I close my eyes and I know that you're better off without me

But I think about you anyway

She bit her lip, pressing the Stop button. She basked in those words, the beautiful, simply breathtaking words that her first love had written. Mia took off the headphones, placing the CD player onto her nightstand. She closed her eyes for a few moments before doing what she did next. She turned on the lamp and walked over to her closet. She opened the doors and looked up at the top shelf, at the pink box hidden behind one of her stuffed bears. She pushed the bear aside, taking hold of the box. She closed the closet and walked over to her bed, sitting down.

She took a deep breath before opening the lid of the box. So, maybe she _hadn't _ripped all of her photos of her, Michael, and them together. Maybe, instead, she had kept every single one, stuffed in the pink box that had carried her six-month anniversary gift from Michael. The numerous photos filled two-thirds of the box. A CD shined up at her, the rainbow of colors dancing in the soft light.

She popped the Mission for Recognition CD out of her Walkman and put in the CD from the box. She waited to push Play, not sure if she was ready to hear. To finally listen. She fidgeted nervously before pushing the Play button. There were a few pauses and she felt like the tears she had cried before were coming back.

"Um…hi," The seventeen year old Michael said, a blender whirring in the background. "Hello. Um. Well. Mia. This is part of your six-month anniversary gift. Knowing me, I probably told you to wait until I left to listen to this. So, assuming I'm not here…well, I _am _here. But, I mean, the, uh, solid me, not the me-on-CD me, this is a CD I made. For, well, _you_. Wow. I must sound so stupid right now. Well, I hope you can forgive me. Back on topic. Here's a few songs that you might recognize and one that you might not. I hope you like them."

And Michael proceeded to begin playing "Tall Drink of Water," sounding exactly like he did the day he had first played the song on his acoustic guitar for her. Chills shot up her spine as he sang. His voice sounded so young, so inexperienced, compared to how he sounded now. Back when he was a teenager, Michael had been Mia's computer geek. The same person who could make her feel nervous at the shortest glance, smelling like soap and whipping up amazing songs in a minute's notice.

A few silent moments followed the end of the song. The biggest grin lit up Mia's face as the opening chords to "Princess of My Heart," played solely on the guitar, filled her ears. She felt weird. Just two hours before, she had been crying over Adam's departure. And now she was smiling as she began to reminiscence about Michael. Mia knew that she was no longer in love with Michael. She just missed him a little, that was all.

Princess of my heart

Oh I don't know where to start

Say I'll be your prince

'Til this lifetime ends.

Princess of my heart

I loved you from the start

Say you love me too

Over my heart you so rule

Mia giggled at the purely romantic, albeit naïve, lyrics. Michael and the rest of his band back then, Skinner Box, had all gotten detention right after Michael had sung that song for her during Gifted and Talented class. But, as he had later stated, it was all worth it. She picked up the box of photos and nearly cringed at the one on the top. It was of Michael standing in front of a pretzel stand just minutes before a stranger had passed by Mia, copping a feel. Michael had been so angry that he tackled the guy and nearly punched his face. The stranger had looked startled as Mia looked down at the scene in horror, her face flushed more brightly than the red shirt she had been wearing that day.

The day had ended all good and well for Michael of course. Instead of getting mad at him, Mia had planted him with kisses the second they walked into Michael's family's empty apartment. Mia had felt her cheeks grow even redder than they had in the park when she felt something poking up at her as she sat on Michael's lap as they kissed. She had immediately jumped off of his lap, looking surprised.

"What's wrong?" Michael had said in his soothing voice, a bemused look on his pale face. Then, he had looked down and had blushed even more deeply than Mia as he attempted to cover up his growing erection. Now that she thought about it, Mia didn't know what the big deal was. Not anymore, anyway. But she had been a fifteen-year-old girl, madly in love with an older guy.

"I-I'm sorry?" He had said nervously, taking deep breaths.

"N-No. It's okay!" Mia had said, her eyes downcast. "Maybe I should leave?"

"No! I mean, no. Don't leave," Michael said. "Please. It…won't happen again?" Mia had ended up staying for nearly an hour more, helping Michael make a lunch of vegetarian burgers, baked French fries, and strawberry banana smoothies. They sat out on the balcony, looking out at the city.

Mia shook the memory from her mind and picked up the next photo as "Princess of My Heart" was coming to a close. Her skin felt cool as she flipped through several pictures of her and Michael smiling as they sat backstage at one of Skinner Box's first gigs. She heard the Michael on the CD cough before speaking once again.

"So, this next song is one that you've never heard. Well, I'm pretty sure you've never heard it, unless you've been hiding under my bed or something." He paused. "You haven't been, have you?" Mia chuckled. "Well, anyway, it's called 'Inside a Raindrop.' I hope you like it."

Mia got off of her bed and walked to the window, Michael's voice singing almost timidly. Shimmering snowflakes hit her window without a sound. She closed her eyes, suddenly realizing that it was Christmas.

And Adam wasn't with her.

---

MISSION FOR RECOGNITION: MESSAGE BOARD

tour startz in 10 dayz

supasexylexxi:

omg! i cant believe that da tour startz in 10 DAYZ! their comin to az, where i live. Michael is so lyq hott! i cant wait to see him. he haz such a nice azz!!!!

Train Underwater:

I'm not even going to try to read what you said. I'm assuming that you said something about how the tour's starting and they're coming to Arizona. But, really, that's all I understood. Grammar is something you should treasure, kids. I am very excited for the tour to start, seeing as I have yet to see them. I'm happy that they're playing two dates in San Francisco. I'm seeing them those two dates and then I'm going to the Sacramento and Berkeley dates.

Darkest Roze:

I'm going to their first show at Raydan in New York. Then I'm flying out to Boston and maybe Philadelphia for their next two shows. It's going to be so rad. I haven't seen them since they played here in NY four months ago. I'm Mission for Recognition deprived!

number1mfrfan:

AHHH!! omgomg!! i'm seeing them at their fourth show in baltimore. i cannot wait!!! max rox my sox

michael.z:

Uh, thanks for all of your enthusiasm. We can't wait for our first show of the tour and we hope you all come out and support Mission for Recogniton!

Supasexylexxi:

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGZZZZ!!! MICHAEL F.UCKING Z REPLIED TO MY THREAD!! OMG!!!!!

---

"I'll have a blue Christmas without you," Max sang somewhat cheerfully as he hung mistletoe over the door leading to the penthouse's sitting area. "I'll be so blue thinking about you." Kristen rolled her eyes as she hung silver tinsel on the Christmas tree that had been sent over the previous night when they had all gotten back home from clubbing.

"So, who wants to put the star on the tree?" Shayne asked, looking through the rather large box of ornaments that her parents had sent over. "How about one of you Jewish kids?" She added to Michael and David, a smirk on her face. Michael looked up, not meeting her eyes. He couldn't quite forgive her for making out with a guy that so closely resembled the hook-nosed, greasy haired professor from _Harry Potter_.

"Go ahead, David," Michael said, nudging David, who sat beside him.

"Huh? Uh, I think I'm going to go call Jenna," David said, rising from the couch. "I just need to know if she's still coming at two." Jenna was David's girlfriend of nearly a year, with whom he was deeply in love with. It was early morning and by this point, Kristen felt cranky. It was Christmas morning and she hadn't even opened any of her presents from her family, friends, or bandmates yet.

"Why don't you put it on?" Michael said to Shayne, looking back down at the latest issue of _Spin _that featured the band. _Them_. His black coffee with three sugars and two creams slowly grew tepid as he avoided the article about his band. "Oh, look at that. Guess who's touring with _Good Charlotte_?" His voice dripped with mock praise.

"Would it be, by any chance, North Storm?" Max said, sounding disgusted as he sat down next to Michael, wanting to see the article. He grabbed the magazine from Michael and began reading the article. "Good Charlotte have recently announced that they will be touring with fellow Maryland natives, North Storm. The two bands will also be teaming up with Simple Plan and New Found Glory to create the mega tour of the winter and spring months. North Storm are known rivals of this month's cover artists, Mission for Recognition. If they were to battle in a bowl of vanilla ice cream and whipped cream, we have full faith that Mission for Recognition would kick North Storm's asses. Not that we're taking sides or anything."

"Hell yes we would!" Shayne exclaimed as she put the star on the eight foot tree, a small ladder helping her reach the top. "I could beat that Lorenda Hardwick's fucking ass any day. Whiny bitch." David soon entered the room, a confused look on his face. "What is all of this noise about?"

"North Storm is touring with Good Charlotte, Simple Plan, and New Found Glory," Kristen said.

"No shit?" David said.

"No shit," Michael said, stifling a laugh.

"How about we all go down to eat breakfast and then we can open up presents?" Max said.

"Sure. Jenna's coming at two, as scheduled," David said happily.

"Rad," Michael said. "Let's go."

---

Mia woke up Christmas morning with her headphones still on her head, Michael's CD on repeat. "In a Raindrop" was playing and she felt like a thousand weights had been resting on her head. She pressed Stop, slowly taking the headphones off of her head. She put her hands to her hair, her normally glossy blonde strands feeling like a complete mess. "Mia! Sweetie, are you awake yet?" Her mom called from outside the door.

"Yeah, Mom," Mia managed to call out, her gray eyes closed.

"Come out and eat some breakfast," Helen said. Mia heard her footsteps as she walked away, most likely heading toward the kitchen. Mia could only imagine the mounds of pancakes, eggs, and soy sausages waiting for her in the kitchen, along with a nice hot mug of chamomile tea. But the thought of food made her feel slightly nauseous. Maybe some tea would do her some good.

She reluctantly got out of bed, quickly dressing herself in a pair of well-worn jeans and a cotton knit top. She left her room and walked into the kitchen, where the smell of food overwhelmed her. "You were usually up so early to eat Christmas breakfast and open presents when you were younger," Helen said the second she saw her daughter. "And where is Adam? His room was empty." Mia felt tears spike in her eyes.

"Adam's gone, Mom," Mia murmured.

"Gone? What do you mean, _gone_?" Helen said, an eyebrow raised.

"He went back to Europe. His mother's sick. Sh-She might die," Mia managed to say.

Helen's mouth managed to gape open, her eyes concerned. "Oh, no. Really?" Helen said. Mia nodded her head, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Well, let me make you some tea. Okay, honey?" Mia nodded her head once again, cradling her face in her hands. Frank sat across from her, a concerned look on his face while Rocky sat gleefully, stuffing his face with bacon and eggs.

"I mean, I understand that his mother is sick and all…but why did he have to leave on _Christmas_?" Mia said, sounding somewhat frustrated. Helen walked back to Mia from the stove, where she had started heating up a kettle of water. "Well, honey, it's just how these things happen, I guess," Helen said soothingly. Mia knew that her mother was trying to be helpful but it really wasn't working.

"Plus, he'll be back soon, won't he?" Helen said. "Maybe you can spend New Year's together?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

---

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mia."

"…_Lilly_?"

"I'm having a New Year's Eve…soiree and was just wondering if you'd want to come. It starts at nine at this club that I rented out for the night. It's a free bar and all so you don't have to worry about bringing any cash. So. Do you want to come?"

"Um…"

"Yes or no? I'm making the guest list right now."

"Sure."

"Okay then."

"Lilly."

"What?"

"I'm sorry about what happened. I mean, I really missed you all when I was gone. I know I should've called more often but—"

"It's okay."

"Really?"

"Really. Oh, and bring Adam along."

"Adam? I, uh…he's not here anymore."

"What do you mean? He went back to Europe or what?"

(_softly_) "Y-Yeah. His mother's sick."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Thanks."

"Well, bring anyone you want. The whole, well, gang's going to be there. Tina, Boris, Shameeka, Ling Su, Michael…"

"M-Michael?"

"Yeah. He just doesn't know it yet. Well, the party is at a club in downtown Manhattan called Jabberjaw…Remember. It starts at nine but you can come anytime before midnight, after nine. See you then, I guess."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Well, bye."

"I missed you, Lilly."

"I missed you too, Mia."

"Oh, and Lilly?"

"Yes?"

"Merry Christmas. Happy late-Hanukkah."

"Haha, thanks. Merry Christmas."

"Bye."

"Bye."

---

The Journal of Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo

_It's Christmas and Adam's gone. Mom gave me a painting that she started two years ago. She says that it started out as a painting for one of the local museums but the longer she painted, she realized how the painting reminded her of me. It's of a cat that looks a lot like Fat Louie in some sort of garden. Flowers are all around the cat and the sun's bright, shining down. The cat's pose is kind of odd, I thought. It's lying out with its limbs stretched out. One of the cat's eyes is closed while the other is wide open. There are several trees around the cat, their leaves big and beautiful. It's a gorgeous, though unusual painting._

Frank gave me a $100 gift card for Borders. Not the most personal of gifts but he knows how much I love to read and listen to music, so it's the perfect gift. Rocky gave me a little clay bowl that he made himself at school. He painted it bright blue and purple with the words "I love you" on it. It's really great.

I gave Mom a set of new paint brushes; her sable ones are wearing down. I also gave her a wide drawing book with the finest paper. She seemed to really like it. I gave Frank a set of all of Dan Brown's books, all autographed. Frank is a really big fan of his and hugged me so hard and wouldn't let go when he saw what I had gotten him. I gave Rocky a set of Hot Wheels toy cars and an art kit complete with pastels, paints, colored pencils, and all of that kind of stuff. He may follow in the footsteps of my mom.

I miss so many people right now, even people that I'm not necessarily supposed to miss. The person I miss most right now, of course, is Adam. He's on a plane to Europe right about now and I'm starting to think that maybe I should've gone back with him. I don't know how long he'll be gone but I hope he comes back soon, preferably before Valentine's Day. I don't think I could bear spending Christmas, New Year's, and _Valentine's Day without him. The promise ring he gave me for Christmas is one of the best presents I've ever gotten from a boyfriend. But, then again, I've only had about five boyfriends ever since my first, Kenny Showalter._

What ever happened to Kenny anyway? He just sort of disappeared after we all graduated from high school. Last I heard, and this was two years ago, he had gotten engaged to this girl that used to be in our biology class, freshman year at AEHS. The same girl that I had seen him kissing two weeks after I got back from Genovia after winter break, freshman year.

I miss all of my old high school friends—Lilly, Tina, Shameeka, Ling Su, Boris…I wish Tina and I could've talked more when I saw her two weeks ago. Lilly…well, I'll be seeing her on New Year's Eve. I wonder how the party will be. I saw Shameeka last year in Italy when I went to a fashion show she was modeling in. She looked as gorgeous as ever. Ling Su…oh, her paintings are beautiful. One of her exhibits was set up in France. One day, Adam started talking about how he had heard of this really amazing artist who was only twenty. He said that her paintings were some of the best he had ever seen. I didn't realize that he was talking about Ling Su until we actually went to the exhibit and her name was plastered on the entrance. Her paintings really seem to capture the innocence and exuberance of youth.

Okay. I admit it. The person I miss most, after Adam, is Michael Moscovitz. He was my first love, after all. I used to view him as some sort of god, believe it or not. Michael always seemed so perfect, despite his certain nerdlike traits. He was unbelievably handsome with his dark hair and eyes. He was taller than me, which was a plus. Michael was intelligent in so many ways and he was perfectly sarcastic and witty. I loved him more than anyone else. And he broke up with me. To this day, I still don't know why he did that. We were so happy together. I know _we were. He just called me, broke up with me _over the phone _and we never talked after that. Until three weeks ago._

Seeing him that night at Penguin, my first night back in New York, brought back so many memories. I remembered the first time we kissed in front of my door while snow fell from the dark sky, his lips on mine. He kept his arms around me, as to protect me from the cold, from harm. I felt so safe at that moment, like nothing bad could ever happen.

I probably miss him more than I should.

---

"A vibrator? You shouldn't have!" Shayne said, holding a black nine-inch vibrator up in the air, a present from Max. "But really. You shouldn't have. If I wanted to fuck, I'd get a _real _guy. Not some plastic toy." Max rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. He said, "Oh, well, I know you're not getting any from Michael so I thought that Mr. Friendly could, you know, _help out_ a little." He gave Shayne a knowing smile. The heat rose slightly in Michael's cheeks. Shayne flipped Max the bird.

"Open mine now!" Kristen said to Shayne, holding out a box wrapped in metallic pink wrapping paper, tied up with a black ribbon. Shayne carefully opened the wrapping paper, a technique she had learned as a child when she had wanted to start collect wrapping paper. She had been a truly odd child.

"You guys really want me to have sex, don't you?" Shayne said, rolling her eyes as she looked down at what Kristen had given her: three boxes of condoms in three different sizes, two dildos, unflavored and flavored lubrication, and edible underwear. "God, Kristen, get a hold of yourself." She took hold of David's gift and unwrapped it quite roughly, impatient. Max, Kristen, and David had already opened their presents. Though Jewish, David and Michael chose to participate in the gift part of the Christian holiday.

"David! You rule," Shayne said. He had bought her all seven of the _Harry Potter _books, a witch's hat, and a set of bookmarks. He was always truly the most sensible of the bunch. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. Michael watched this scene, gulping down coffee.

"No problem," David said, shrugging his shoulders. "I know how much you love that Draco Malfoy and his, erm, 'supremely sexy slicked hair.'"

"And now, Michael's gift," Shayne said, with more enthusiasm than she had for the others. She opened peered inside of the blue bag that held the gift. Taking out the tissue paper, Shayne reached into the bag for her gift. "A poster of Alan Rickman?"

"An _autographed _poster of Alan Rickman," Michael said smoothly. "I know how much you dig guys with dark greasy hair and big noses. There's more, anyway."

Shayne looked back into the bag to see a box of chocolates, a box of condoms for not well-endowed men, a Milli Vanilli CD, and _Pocahantas_ on tape. "Um. Thanks," Shayne said, looking confused.

"Well, Michael, time for your presents," Kristen said, trying not to laugh. "Here's mine." She handed him a medium-sized box wrapped in silver paper. He quickly opened the present.

"_Girls Gone Wild_? That's shit," Michael said, a smirk on his face. "Oh, fuck no!" Kristen smiled.

"Gay porn. Wow. Michael, I didn't know you swung that way," Max said, mock surprise on his face.

"We're truly a horny bunch, aren't we?" David said, his head tilted.

"Definitely. And you bought me a subscription to _Playboy_. Well, that…that is just dandy," Michael said, a sarcastically cheerful look on his face.

"Mine now," Shayne said, shoving a bag in front of his face.

"A shirt that says 'I'm Rick James, bitch!' and another shirt that says 'TAXI.' Wow," Michael said. "And this TAXI shirt smells kind of…ripe?"

"Well, hey, that TAXI shirt once belonged to Carmine," Shayne said. Michael immediately dropped the shirt from his grasp. "Did you _steal _his shirt or something?" Michael questioned, a suspicious look on her face.

"No. I asked him for it in exchange for your 'I Eat Bananas' shirt," Shayne said in a carefree voice. "He happily obliged."

"I _knew _that I didn't lose that shirt!" Michael said in a slightly triumphant voice.

"Dude. Get over it," Max said, speaking of his interrogation of each of the member's of the group in the search of his shirt that pictured one banana eating another banana while a group of bananas watched.

The best present he got for Christmas was easily the one he had received from, of all people, Lilly. He had been surprised at what she had sent him, though not in a bad way.

It had been a picture of an eighteen-year-old him and all of Lilly's friends: Tina, Ling Su, Boris, Shameeka. And it had also featured all of Michael's friends from the Computer Club and his fellow Skinner Box bandmates. In the center of this group of people were Michael and Mia, their eyes on each other instead of the camera.


	13. this is the new year and i don't feel an...

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Thirteen: this is the new year and i don't feel any different

A/N: The gift-giving scene between the members of Mission for Recognition was written at a time when I was feeling extremely weird, so pardon the pervertedness of my mind. Please and thank you.****

Interesting things actually happen in this chapter!

I wrote the Mission for Recognition lyrics. Now that I think about it, maybe I should've used other people's songs instead of writing my own lyrics because maybe then they wouldn't suck so badly. Haha.

I don't know if you all had realized the supreme lack of Grandmere but let's just say she went back to Europe.

This is for National Brandy Day! Yay!

---

"Michael Robert Moscovitz! Get off your ass and open this door _right now_!" On the morning of December 31st, Michael lay face down on the couch in the sitting room, deep in slumber. Lilly Moscovitz stood in front of the loft, pounding on the door. "I will seriously knock down this door if you don't open it!" Max walked out of his bedroom, confused. He had just woken up seconds before and the sun shining in through the open windows was hurting his eyes.

He walked to the door, curious as to who could be pounding on it so early. It was twelve thirty p.m. for Christ's sake. Why couldn't people have common courtesy as to not disturb others? He opened the door and was surprised to see Lilly standing in front of him. "Max! Where the hell is Michael?" Lilly asked, sounding impatient. In the lights shining down from the ceiling, Lilly reminded Max vaguely of a dark-haired angel, glasses and all.

"L-L-Lilly?" Max said, still half-asleep. "What are you doing here?" He added, obviously not comprehending what she had said before in his sleepy state of mind. Lilly looked at him as if he was an incompetent excuse for a human being.

"I need to speak to Michael. Where is he?" Lilly said. Michael heard talking as he slowly woke up. There was a blanket on him that hadn't been there when he had fell asleep the previous night but he thought nothing of it. All he knew was that _Lilly _was in the loft. And he could hear her mentioning his name several times.

So, he decided to make a run for it. But how would he be able to do that without being spotted by Lilly? He quickly devised a plan. The couch he was on had its back to the front door so he could possibly crawl back to his room without being caught. _Yes, _Michael thought fervently, _that just might work_. He kept the blanket draped over his six-foot-one inch frame and slowly, _very _slowly, began crawling toward his bedroom.

"Uh, I don't know," Max said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Sleeping? Or he might be chowing down on pancakes down at the restaurant on the first floor. Lilly shot him an irritated, even disgusted look.

"He's in here, isn't he?" Lilly said, which caused Michael to stop crawling, in fear that he might've been in her sight. The room was quiet for a few moments but he didn't hear any footsteps approaching so he continued to crawl. And he probably would have made it to his room if it hadn't been for Shayne.

"Michael?" Shayne said, appearing from her bedroom. "Why are you…_on the floor_? With a blanket on you?" She looked confused, understandably so. She talked just loud enough that she caught Lilly's attention. A grimace on her face, Lilly walked past Max and into the loft. She stopped just inches before Michael's body.

"Michael. What the hell are you doing?" Lilly said, staring down at her brother's blanketed body.

"Um. I've got the f-l-double o-r?" Michael said, not much for excuses at that moment.

"God, I thought that once you actually became _friends _with Rooney, you would stop using references from their songs," Lilly said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, I just hope that you don't do it in front of them. They probably think you're geeky enough as it is."

"Dude. Get up," Shayne said, rolling her eyes as she walked by the two, toward the kitchen.

Michael reluctantly rose from the floor and faced his younger, shorter sister, the blanket over his head.

"You. Are. Such. A. Geek."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Lilly," Michael said. "Well. What is so utterly important that you had to come to the loft to discuss with me? No, wait, let me guess…you need to borrow a couple hundred bucks for tae bo lessons. No, no! You came to tell me that Pavlov chased a cat up a tree."

"You really need to get out more," Lilly said coolly. "The only reason I came over is because I thought I'd tell you that you're coming to my New Year's Eve party tonight at nine. It's at a club I rented out called Jabberjaw. This guy that digs me co-owns it."

He somehow doubted that someone "dug" his sister.

"You can't tell me where I'm going to be on New Year's," Michael said spitefully.

"Well, Mia's coming," Lilly said. His eyebrows shot _way _up.

"And why, I must ask, would I care if Mia is attending?" Michael said, his brows now furrowed.

"Well, are you coming or not?" Lilly inquired impatiently, her hands on her hips. Max watched the scene from behind, a cheerful, albeit sleepy, look on his unusually pale face.

"You didn't even bother if the band and I had plans for tonight! We could easily have planned to go to Julian's party or something. God. Here's a tip, Lil: Be more considerate of others," Michael said.

"But you're _don't _already have plans, do you?" Lilly said.

"Well…Uh. No. But that's not the point!"

"Well, it starts at nine, at Jabberjaw. I invited all of your old friends. You know. From the time when you were slightly more sane," Lilly said smugly.

"Ha ha, so hilarious."

"See you then, I guess."

"Yeah. Maybe." Lilly smiled triumphantly and quickly walked to the front door, though not before exchanging a look with Max, who was looking befuddled. He shut the door behind Lilly as she walked out. Michael took the blanket off from his head and tossed it over to one of the couches.

"We're going," Max said delightedly, apparently not aware that Lilly had seen him only in his duckie boxers. And maybe he preferred it that way.

"What? Why?" Michael said, scratching his head.

"It sounds fun," Max said. "Oh. And who's Mia?"

"No one!" Michael said before he could stop himself. He walked to his bedroom, falling onto his bed, his eyes closed tight. He absolutely refused to go. Not only because Lilly was forcing him to, or the fact that his own sister was throwing a party, but because he simply didn't want to see Mia. He couldn't see Mia.

But he knew he would probably end up going anyway.

---

Mia sat at her computer desk, looking at a Mission for Recognition fansite. She wore only a bathrobe and her hair was up in a messy bun but she paid no notice. "Shayne Tennessee Osborn was born in New York City, living next door to her future bandmate, David Richards," Mia murmured to herself, reading Shayne's biography on the website. "Her father taught her how to play the bass at age thirteen."

She reached for her cup of coffee, taking a long sip. She really wasn't looking forward to the New Year's party. Sure, she wanted to see Tina and Shameeka and all of her old friends. But Michael would be there. And, most likely, Mission for Recognition would be there. She was sure that there wouldn't be people mobbing the band but she had seen quite a few twenty-two-year-olds at a recent Strokes concert, all of them screaming something along the lines of, "I WANT TO FUCK YOU, JULIAN!" or "NICK! OH MY GOD! TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!"

Who was she going to kiss at midnight? How fucking _awkward _would it be to try and talk with people she hadn't seen in over four years? Her forehead creased in worry as she clicked on the link to Michael's biography, the smallest of smirks on her face. "Michael Moscovitz was born in Manhattan to a pair of psychoanalysts. Two years after his birth, his mother gave birth to Michael's younger sister, Lilly."

"Michael began playing the guitar when he was sixteen years old. By seventeen, he had mastered a plethora of instruments, including the piano, bass, drums, and tambourine." Mia only recalled too well Michael's amazing ability to play so many instruments so well. "He finally settled on playing the guitar when he started Mission for Recognition with Kristen Taylor and David Richards."

Mia sighed, exiting the website and proceeding to turn off her computer. She rose from the computer chair, strolling over to her closet. She slowly opened the doors, contemplating what to wear for the party. She wrinkled her nose as her eyes caught site of the lime green shirt she had bought back in her sophomore year of high school. She really didn't have very good fashion sense as a teenager, did she?

"Perfect," Mia murmured to herself, taking a flowy, strapless black dress out of her closet, which had been a gift from Grandmere. She could pair the black dress with a pair of fishnet tights or black tights. Her snowflake necklace and the ring she had received from Adam would both go wonderfully with the outfit. Mia smiled triumphantly, laying the dress onto her bed. She went back to her closet, taking out her favorite pastel pink tweed jacket. She set it down next to the dress. She wanted to make a good impression.

And, hopefully, she would.

---

Lilly Moscovitz had been a misunderstood child. Normally, the attention would be on the younger child but she knew, at age six, that her brother was smarter, funnier, and better looking than she was. This depressed her on so many levels but she soon began working at learning. Intelligence, it seemed, had always come to her quite easily. She was a bright child, that was obvious enough, but she had a problem with making friends. Sure, she had more friends than Michael but her parents still seemed to pay more attention to her older brother.

Until it was proven, with a test, that she was actually smarter than her brother when she was ten and he was twelve. Then, her parents finally started paying more attention to her. Now, at the age of twenty-two, she felt out of the limelight once again. Michael was in a world-famous, successful rock band. And she was back to living with her parents. That _wasn't _how things were supposed to work out. Living her parents would just be a temporary thing, she knew. She had written a string of political and scientific articles for the _New York Times _but nothing to boost her career infinitely.

She was happy for her brother. She really was. Even though he was a complete idiot.

So, as she stood in Jabberjaw, directing the caterers to the kitchens, setting out tables for the food and refreshments, she couldn't help but feel a bit odd. She was looking forward to meeting with all of her high school friends and Michael's old friends. She had recently talked to Felix and they had…

Well, she could _definitely _wait to tell Michael that she was going out with his old best friend.

---

Mia sat in her black limo, which was taking her to the New Year's party. "Are you sure you won't be needing me to guard you at the party, Princess Amelia?" Lars asked as he sat across from her, cellphone in hand. "Yes, very sure, Lars," Mia said softly. "Thank you anyway." He nodded, a small smile on his tan face. Mia looked out of her window, the dark of the night apparent even through the tinted windows.

"And you'll just call when you wish to be picked up, Amelia?" Lars said, looking up from the game of 'Snake' that he had been playing on his cellphone. "Yeah," Mia said, nodding. The limo suddenly stopped. The ride had been shorter than she had expected. Mia got out of the limo, her dress swishing gracefully at her ankles. The air was cold, as it should've been in the middle of the winter.

Lars closed the door behind her. Mia suddenly wished that she had chosen to wear jeans instead of her dress and black tights, her snowflake necklace dangling from her neck. Creamy lavender eyeshadow sparkled on her eyelids, her lips coated with abnormally shiny golden pink lip gloss. She could hear the music playing from inside the club, which she recognized as "Paralyzed" by Rooney. A line of what must've been fifty people stood, waiting to get inside apparently. Mia breathed deeply before walking to the end of the line, earning quite a few looks from the men, and even some women, in the line. She kept her head down, her cheeks dark pink.

"Mia? Is that you?" She heard from in front of her. Mia looked up, a gorgeous grin on her face. "Shameeka!" She exclaimed, walking forward to embrace her old friend. Shameeka looked as gorgeous as ever, her hair cut elegantly at her chin. Her honey brown eyes sparkled, though Mia didn't know if it was natural or if it was because she was crying. "I missed you so much!" Shameeka exclaimed, hugging Mia harder.

"I missed you too, Shameeka!" Mia said. "This is so surreal. We haven't seen each other in ages. How did time go by so quickly?" Mia stepped away from Shameeka and smiled at her simply amazing cream dress, a ribbon tied at the waist. "You look amazing."

"_I _look amazing?" Shameeka said. "_You _are the one that looks like a supermodel!" Which, coming from Shameeka, meant a lot, considering she had been on the cover of Vogue three times ever since she had started modeling at age nineteen. Her father had finally given up on trying to get her to go to law school.

"Well, come inside then," Shameeka said. "Your name _is _on the 'VIP' list."

"Oh, really?" Mia said.

"Yeah!" They walked toward the front, earning disgruntled glares from the people that had been waiting in line.

"Hey! A-Aren't you Princess Amelia?" said the bouncer at the front door, his eyes wide.

"Um. Yes. People usually call me Mia though."

"Go right in, Mia. And Ms. Taylor."

"Thanks," Shameeka said, winking at the bouncer. They walked past him and into the club. The first thing Mia noticed was the crowd of people on the dance floor. Well, Lilly sure knew how to throw a party, she guessed.

"Mia!" someone exclaimed from behind her. Mia turned around and sure enough, Lilly and Tina stood, huge grins on their faces. Tina lunged forward, smothering Mia with a hug. Boris, she was sure, was out on the dance floor, showing off his creepy dance moves, or at the bar, downing a Cosmopolitan or something equally feminine.

"Hi you guys!" Mia said, throwing her arms around Tina. They stepped away from each other, though reluctantly. Lilly, never much for affection, gave Mia a small hug.

Mia looked away for a moment and saw the one person she had been dreading most.

Michael.

---

"Heeeey, what is that?" Mia said, indicating the dark pink drink that Michael seemed to be drinking every two seconds, four other glasses of the drink in front of him. It was an odd situation, them being alone in a dimly lit room but it was probably destiny. Mia, Shameeka, Tina, and Lilly, after all of them had hugged each other, had found a table and ordered a round of drinks. By her fourth tequila, Mia was feeling more than woozy. Max, some guy from Michael's band, had taken Lilly away from the girls and to the dance floor, where she was dancing angrily. She stepped on his feet every few seconds, totally on purpose, while Felix Matthews stood from a distance, glaring. Boris had walked over to the table the minute Lilly had left, planting a kiss on Tina's cheek.

Mia had looked around the club, Michael no longer to be found. Maybe he had left. But the rest of his bandmates, she noticed, were still there. Kristen and Shayne were dancing provocatively on the dance floor with overly handsome guys. David sat alone at the bar, writing in a notebook.

But she still couldn't find Michael. She had lost her focus from the lack of sobriety.

Why did she even _care _that she couldn't find Michael? She didn't care about him anymore; not in the least. He had broken her heart at fifteen and didn't even fucking care about her anymore probably.

But she did care. And she hated herself for it.

"I-I-I'm going to the b-bathroom," Mia slurred, rising from the chair.

"Okay, do you need some help?" Shameeka said, the only sober one.

"N-N-No," Mia stammered, walking away. Now, where was the bathroom? She walked past the dance floor, not before being approached by some slimy guy.

"Hey, sexy," He said. "Where do you think you're going? Wanna dance?"

"God, no," Mia said. "F-Fuck off."

"No need to use language, baby," He said, smiling.

"Go away!" Mia said. She pushed him away, running to what she thought was the bathroom. She opened the door, walked inside without looking, and closed it behind her. Her eyes closed, her back on the door.

"Mia?" Mia opened her eyes and was surprised to see that the one person she had wanted to see least, the one person she had wanted to see most, was sitting in the room, a drink in hand. He, she noticed, didn't look so sober himself. _Drinking to wash the pain away_.

"Michael? Is that you?" Mia said, clutching her stomach.

"Yeah. Are you okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual.

"Um. Um. Um. Yes," Mia had stuttered, her eyes confused. She sat down across from Michael, though quite a distance away. And they had proceeded to sit in silence until she broke it with one question.

"A tartini," Michael said, looking down at his drink.

"A what?"

"A cranberry flavored vodka. Haven't you ever seen _Sex and the City?_" Michael said.

"And _you _have?"

"Hey, I happen to be very in touch with my feminine side," Michael said indignantly. "Do you want to try some?"

"Sure," Mia said, reaching out to take the glass. She tipped a small amount into her mouth, the liquid hitting her teeth, washing over her tongue.

"Good?" Michael said, his eyes half-closed.

"Yeah," She said, giving the glass back to Michael. They sat in silence once again, both of their eyes closed.

"Michael," Mia said before she could stop herself. She lay down on the dirty ground, not caring about anything anymore, much less her dress. She kept her eyes closed, trying to fall asleep. It was an unsuccessful attempt. "I missed you."

"W-What?" Michael said.

"I missed you," Mia repeated, not aware of the words that may have been slipping out of her mouth.

"I…I missed you too, Mia," Michael said gently, his eyes downcast at this point.

"Then why did you break my heart, Michael? I loved you so much. I loved you more than anyone, even Fat Louie! I lost my fucking virginity to you and you break up with me two weeks later. What the hell was _up _with that?" She spoke in a languid voice.

"I don't know," Michael lied, downing the rest of his tartini miserably.

"Yes, you do. Don't lie to me," Mia continued in the same lucid, sleepy voice. She wondered in the back of her mind if someone had spiked her drink with Ecstasy or something equally entrancing.

"I couldn't handle it anymore," Michael said, stuck in the same drowsy stupor that Mia seemed to be stuck in. "When we made love, it was so…so _phenomenal_. But I wasn't ready. I knew I wasn't ready but I did it anyway. I loved you so much. So, so much. More than anything, Mia. More than anything in the world, I loved you."

"When I broke your heart, I broke mine too. I saw you in Central Park the day before I moved into my dorm at Columbia…You were hugging someone…Some guy."

"René?" Mia mumbled. "He was leaving for Genovia. I was hug-hug-hugging him."

"Who…who was he?"

"M-M-My cousin…distant cousin…" Michael felt his heart drop.

"Do you love him?" Michael said dreamily.

"Who?"

"You know who…Adam…"

"Oh…I dunno…He gave me this ring before he left…"

"He left?…"

"Yesssss. He left on Christmas for Euuurrrope. His mother is dyyyyying."

"Oh. That's shitty," He replied bluntly.

"Yeah yeah yeah."

"Mmm, I loved you so much. I missed you so much. You and your cherry chapstick…Mmmm…"

"I loved you too…Oh, I used to think you were so-s-so perfect…Y-You were perfect, Michael. Oh, I loved how your hair fell in your eyes whenever you'd luh-looked up at me…Oh, and you al-al-always smelled like soap. Mmm…I loved you. My heart broke and I hated you for that…I tried to convince myself that I hated you…But, Michael…Michael…"

"Yeaaaahh?"

"I've always luh-luh-loved you…"

"Me too…Mia…whenever I would _fuck _those other girls…I-I couldn't stop thinking about yooooooou. Only yooooou."

"Then why did you fuuuuck them all?"

"I d-didn't want to be alone?" Michael said, more as a question than a response.

"Oh, Michael…we were so per-perfect together…whaaaaat happpppened?"

"I dunnoo, Miiiia," Michael said, slowly crawling toward Mia.

"Sooooo, if we hadn't had seeeex, we might have staaayed together…?"

"Mmm, I dunno." He lay down next to her, facing her back. He gently stroked her silky blonde hair. She curled up, hugging herself.

He wrapped his arms around her body, burying his face in her soft hair.

"TEN!" They heard from outside, in the club. The countdown to the New Year. He tried his best to stand up, which took him a second or two. He pulled Mia up as best as he could. They looked into each other's eyes, holding each other's hands for support.

"SIX! FIVE! FOUR!"

"Happy Neeew…Year, Mia," Michael whispered. His warm breath cascaded over her face, sending shivers up her spine. They were much too close by this point. Closer than exes should've been several seconds before the New Year. Much, much too close…"

"Happy New Year, Michael."

"TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Mia mashed her lips against Michael's, her arms now around his neck. They were closer than they had been in over six years. He was taken by surprise as they kissed and kissed, her lip gloss smearing all over Michael's face. Their lips had collided in moist, messy perfection. As they kissed and kissed, Mia felt her heart sink. She was cheating on Adam. With _Michael _of all people! The one person she had been trying to avoid for so long. And suddenly she didn't care.

All she knew that all she wanted to do was kiss him until she couldn't kiss anymore.


	14. i gotta run

**__**

Falling Away

Chapter Fourteen: i gotta run

A/N: I should die, die, die. Die.

---

Stop kissing him…Stop kissing him… No, don't stop…It feels so good… 

Michael and Mia stood in the small, dimly lit room, kissing without breathing for air. Michael's lips tasted of the cranberry vodka he had been sipping just minutes before, both sweet and tart. Mia mentally slapped herself for thinking about how Michael's lips tasted when she was so clearly cheating on the love of her life. But she couldn't pull herself away from Michael.

And by the time she finally did, it was already too late.

"Holy shit!" Suddenly, the room was filled with artificial light. Lilly Moscovitz stood at the doorway, champagne in hand, her mouth gaping open. Michael and Mia pulled away from each other, reluctance on Michael's part. Mia turned to face Lilly, shielding her eyes with her hand from the bright lights. Her pink lip gloss was smeared all over Michael's cheeks and chin, as well as Mia's chin.

"What the _hell _do you two think you were doing?" Lilly said, one of her hands on her hip. Her eyes narrowed at the two. Mia felt partly shocked…and partly confused. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. There was, obviously enough, no good excuse for what they had just done. Her eyes lowered in shame.

Michael ran a hand through his messed up hair, rolling his eyes. "We were just kissing. Didn't know that was such a crime these days." Mia looked up long enough to shoot him a glare, knowing that they had been doing more than "just kissing." Michael licked his lips, which tasted like cherry chapstick.

Lilly leaned forward and smacked Michael's forehead. "What was _that _for?" Michael asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he gently massaged his forehead. "It's for being such a complete and total douchebag," Lilly said bitterly, tipping her champagne into her mouth. "And, Mia, don't get me started on _you. _You have a _boyfriend _for God's sake. What were you thinking?"

"I-I-I wasn't thinking," Mia said somewhat sadly, a single tear emerging from her dull gray eyes. "God, Lilly, I'm drunk. I haven't been this drunk ever since graduation. I-I'm a horrible drinker, anyway. I'd make an awful drunk." And now she was just rambling. Lilly shot her an incredulous look.

"God, Mia, don't stand there and take Lilly's bullshit," Michael said, shaking his head. He put a hand on his hip, his shaggy hair over his eyes. Mia could feel them on her either way. If one thing had changed since high school, it was that Michael was more confident than he had ever been now.

"Oh, fine, let me leave you two alone to your little fuck fest," Lilly said nastily. With a swish of her dark curls, she walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Mia stood there, feeling about ready to cry. Michael thought to scream something at the closed door, though he knew Lilly probably wouldn't be able to hear him.

"WE WERE NOT FUCKING!" Michael yelled angrily.

"I should go," Mia whispered loudly, tears spiking her sullen eyes.

"Mia," Michael said urgently. He stepped forward, grabbing her shoulders. "We were just kissing. No harm can come from kissing."

No harm at all.

Mia stuffed her face into her pillow, tears falling from her eyes. Horrible things always seemed to happen when she got drunk. Once, in her freshman year of college, she had gone to her first "keg party" and ended up tripping over James, the really cute, tall guy with blonde hair from her biology class, who had been sitting on a couch, talking with a short redheaded girl. He had been rather sympathetic about it, probably because he hadn't been so sober himself. After her college graduation, she had gotten drunk and ended up throwing up on Adam. He had been polite about it, though, not angry or as disgusted as most guys would've been. And for that, she had been grateful.

She had cheated on Adam. With her ex-boyfriend, Michael Moscovitz, the same man who had broken her heart six years before. "Goddamn it!" Mia hissed into her pillow. How should she tell Adam? How _could_ she tell Adam? She hated it. She hated the situation she had created. She hated herself for hurting Adam. She hated Michael for kissing her. She was absolutely hating her life at that moment.

But most of all, she hated herself for kissing him.

And liking it.

---

He had the biggest fucking headache he had ever gotten before from drinking. Drinking, Michael knew, was bad but once an ice cold beer hit his tongue, he couldn't help himself from drinking more and more until he became positively incoherent. Drinking was the cause of all of the wrong that happened the second the hand struck midnight. Michael himself had tried to convince Mia that it was "just kissing."

Who the hell was he kidding? He knew—God, did he know—that it was way more than kissing. Just minutes before they had begun kissing, they—he, mostly—had confessed everything they had kept bottled up for so many years.

"I've always luh-luh-loved you…"

She still loved him. After six long, painful, lonely years, they were still in love with each other. Weren't they? He missed the taste of her lips, her cherry chapstick lips. She had revealed that she adored the way his hair fell in his eyes, the way he smelled of soap. Michael kept a mental note of that.

He had basically helped her in cheating on Adam. What _was _he now? A cheatee? The other man? The guy who broke up Genovia's power couple? If news spread, he might even become some sort of leper! This could ruin his entire music career! Well, actually, now that he thought about it, that all seemed highly doubtful. So, he drank a glass of water and downed an Aspirin with pride.

He walked to the bathroom. He stood in front of the sink, looking at his face in the shiny mirror. His eyes were red, his hair disheveled. He looked like he needed a long, hot shower. He quickly shut the door and stripped himself of his clothes. He walked into the bathtub, closing the shower curtain. He turned on the faucet and pretty soon, water was cascading down his pale, thin body.

He massaged some shampoo into his hair and pretty soon, the bathroom was filled with the scent of flowers and ylang ylang. He found it oddly calming. He looked down, inspecting his body. He was extremely thin, now that he took the time to look at his body. His chest was pretty much hairless, with the exception of a few dark hairs. His abs weren't built but were nice and…strong?

And, hey, his package wasn't so small. He was pretty well-hung, he guessed. More than the average guy. Just not as big as a male porn star's. And that was perfectly all right with him. His legs were slightly skinny, kind of hairy. He looked down at his feet, which seemed to be more well-groomed than a guy's feet should've been, which he may or may not have been proud of. Probably the former.

He rinsed his hair thoroughly before putting some raspberry conditioner into his hair. Even the wonderful smell filling the bathroom couldn't make him feel any less hung over. Maybe it would help if he sang a bit.

"Our love!" Michael exclaimed, even adding a little hip shaking in. "_Our love_! Is the best love! If it were up to me. Yes, our love—_Our love_!—is real love! So just let it be-e. Well, your mother likes my smile, and your father likes my lifestyle…"

Yes, new song. "I…am thinking it's a sign. That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned." The second he sang the word "kiss," he thought of Mia. Beautiful Mia with her slender limbs and soft gray eyes. He could easily pierce him with a single glance. She had the deepest, most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He scrubbed himself vigorously with Dove soap, his eyes closed.

It was probably around one by now. The last rehearsal before the day of the tour kickoff would be in three hours. He may have been rich and famous now but that didn't make him feel any less nervous. So, as he thoroughly rinsed his hair of the raspberry conditioner, it was safe to say he was anxious.

---

****

Michael's To-Do List

Do vocal warm-ups before practice

Get Shayne to get tuna from the grocery store

Get David to pick up the dry cleaning OR ask him to ask Bob to get it

Re-write chorus to "Alfred Pumpernickel"

Break off "relationship" with Shayne

Call Mia and ask her if she wants to go to the Raydan show

Don't be too disappointed when she declines

---

Mia stared at the phone on her desk, contemplating the best way to inform Adam that she had cheated on him. She felt sick to her stomach imagining what would happen when he found out. "Adam…Yeah, you know Michael Z? Well, of course you do but…well, we used to date in high school and I just cheated on you with him," Mia murmured, smoothing her hair down with her hands. She gently slapped her forehead, her stomach twisting and turning.

She had always promised herself that she would never cheat on a guy. That was the _one _standing rule that she had set for herself. And now she had broken it. What the hell would happen now? She gnawed unknowingly on her pinky nail, lying back onto her bed.

But, God, did Michael's lips taste good.

I am so going to Hell, Mia thought, staring up at her ceiling.

The phone rang suddenly, surprising Mia. She jumped up and grabbed it.

Please don't let it be Michael…Please don't let it be Michael… 

"Hello?" Mia said awkwardly into the phone.

"Mia, is that you?" said a female's voice.

"Yesssss. Lilly?"

"No, this is Tina. I heard all about what happened last night! Er…this morning."

"Tina, please don't tell me you called just to tell me what a bitch I am and how I'm going to Hell."

"Uh. No, actually. I just wanted to say how _excited _I am that you and Michael got back together! I knew you two were always meant to be together!"

"Tina! Michael and I are _not_—I repeat, _not_—together!" Mia said.

"Then, why did Lilly find you two in a closet making out with each other? God, I wish Boris and I could do that every once in awhile…" Mia really didn't want to imagine Boris in a closet with Tina, a hand up her top.

"I was…We were…We were both _drunk_!"

"But does that really explain anything?"

"Well, uh…it should! Because we were! And I have a boyfriend! A boyfriend that is not Michael! A perfectly gorgeous, intelligent, witty, charming…boyfriend. So. Why would I willingly kiss another man when I have the perfect boyfriend? The boyfriend that I've wanted my entire life?"

"Maybe Adam's not the one you've been waiting for all this time," Tina said almost timidly.

"No! Of course he is! And don't you dare say that I've been waiting for Michael…Because I haven't!" Mia exclaimed. Tina did reply. So, Mia did the best she could to fill the silence. And it hurt. "Tina, how am I supposed to tell Adam that I cheated on him with this amazingly famous, talented rockstar that he practically idolizes? The same guy that I first fell in love with?"

"I-I dunno," Tina said softly, sadly. "But you're going to have to tell him sooner or later. Before he finds out from someone else…"

"I will…soon."

"Okay. Well, Boris and I are going to go out to lunch now. Call me later?"

"What's your number?" Mia said, grabbing a pen and notepad.

"555-5239. Talk to you soon, Mia. Bye."

"Bye, Tina." Mia hung up the phone and set down the notepad on the nightstand beside her bed. Mia stared once again at the phone. She closed her eyes, picking it up. She began dialing Adam's cellphone number, the number that she could always reach him and only him at.

The dialing tone was slow and slightly irritating. Mia was about to hang up when someone picked up.

"Hello?"

It was a female voice.

Mia suddenly felt like she was going to throw up all over again.

---

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know: short, bad chapter for such a long wait. Sorry, sorry.


	15. darling, you've grown tired of me

**__**

Falling Away

chapter fifteen: darling, you've grown tired of me

A/N: Thanks for all of your reviews. Appreciate it.

Oh, and you know, I'm totally going to Hell.

I turn 14 on the 28th!

Merry Christmas!

---

"Um, hello? Is anyone there?"

Mia literally felt as if she couldn't breathe. The voice on the other end was a pretty, girlish voice with the slightest French accent that sounded as if it belonged to a supermodel, or someone who had the looks of Heidi Klum at least. She sounded young, maybe nineteen or twenty. "Hello?…Bonjour? I know someone's there. I can hear you breathing." _Speak…no, don't speak, hang up, damn it!…HANG UP!…_

"Erm, hello," Mia managed to say, the phone held tightly to her ear, her lips practically kissing the mouthpiece. "Is Adam…I mean, can I…" Mia stopped speaking, her eyes wide. She didn't know what to say.

"Can you what?" the supermodel with the light French accent said in a somewhat bored voice.

"Is Adam there? Can I speak to him?" Mia said, breathing loudly.

"Uh huh, he's in the bathroom. We're at a cotillion right now," The girl said coolly. "Who is this, anyway? I'm Andrea Monticelli. You may have heard of me. I used to model for Gucci. Adam's my date, I hope you know. We're just having the most _fabulous _time together," She added, extra emphasis on 'together.' Mia suddenly felt like screaming what she was thinking at that moment…"_LET ME TALK TO ADAM, YOU EVIL, SKANKY BITCH!" _She refrained from doing so but felt her face grow hot with anger.

"Well, _Andrea_, this is _Princess_ _Mia_ of _Genovia_," Mia hissed. " And Adam is my _boyfriend _and he _loves _me. So, could you please let me talk to him?"

Mia heard someone talk in the background. Adam. "Andrea…What do you think you're doing on my cell phone? Could you please give me that? Who are you talking to? Please don't tell me you're making long-distance calls to Egypt."

She heard what must've been Adam attempting to take his cellphone from Andrea while Andrea struggled to hold onto it. She was unsuccessful. The next voice she heard was Adam's, talking into the phone.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Adam. It's me…Mia," Mia said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Mia! Oh my God. Hey! How are you?" Adam exclaimed, suddenly sounding jubilant, which made Mia's heart skip.

"I'm great. Wonderful. Great. Um, how about you?"

"Oh, I'm doing well. I'm at this cotillion though and it's really, extremely boring," Adam said with a laugh. He added with an audible whisper, "My date's a complete snob as well."

"Your…Your date?" So, what _Andrea _had said had been true.

"Yeah, my day—OH! No, no…Mia, we only went together as friends. Hell, not even as friends so much as acquaintances. Our families thought it'd be just dandy if we came together. And trust me, you do not want to defy my mother when she has that death glare on her face." He laughed lightly which couldn't help but make Mia smile.

"How…how is your mother?" Mia asked quietly. Adam suddenly stopped laughing and there was an awkward pause. Mia wanted to die right there and then. Mia could hear Andrea muttering in rapid French, an annoyed tone to her voice.

"She's not doing well," Adam said, his voice suddenly taking on a serious tone. Mia knew how he must've looked at that moment, his eyes probably dropping, his mouth a thin, pursed line. "Sh-She's gotten worse since I've arrived." There was another brief pause and Mia closed her eyes, wanting to be there to hold Adam's hand and comfort him.

---

But then she remembered what she needed to tell him. And she was pretty sure she would blurt it out if she were actually with him. "AdamIcheaonyouwiMichaZ," Mia mumbled.

"Uh…What?" Adam said, sounding bemused.

"Nothing. I mean, it's not nothing. Just nothing important. Well, uh, I miss you," Mia said, not stopping to breathe for air. Adam coughed and Mia just knew he had a smile on his face at that moment.

"Well, I'm thinking it's not nothing," Adam said crisply. "So, why don't you just tell me what it is? It couldn't be something as horrible as having to suffer through this cotillion, is it?" When Mia didn't speak, Adam knew it was serious. And he knew it was something much worse than the cotillion. So much worse.

"…Mia?" He managed to say.

"I…" Mia said, softly clearing her throat. "I cheated on you."

"What? Did you…Did…What?" Adam said, sounding amazingly less upset than how she thought he would be. But she felt sad all the same.

"Adam…I cheated on you."

"You…you did?" Adam said, sounding completely in disbelief. Mia felt tears slowly building up in her gray eyes. When Mia didn't speak, Adam chose to continue.

"W-With who?" Adam said, his voice cracking like a thirteen-year-old boy's. He himself, Mia noticed, sounded close to tears as well. _Should I tell him? _Mia thought to herself, her lips pursed.

"Michael," Mia said, her voice a loud whisper.

"Michael who?" Adam inquired almost sharply.

"Z," Mia murmured.

"Z? What do you mean, Z?" Adam said, sounding confused.

"Michael…Z…I cheated on you with Michael…Z," Mia said, tears pouring down her cheeks. Adam felt as if she had taken his heart out and stepped on it repeatedly, it hurt so bad. He had never been cheated on before and had never cheated on anyone. He was a person with principles. And he had thought that Mia had been too.

"Michael Z? What? How?…"

"We used to date. Back in high school. He…he was my first love."

It suddenly all sunk in.

He wouldn't want her back. How could he want her back after this?

"Mia," Adam said in a new, calmer voice. "I can forgive you for cheating on me, as long as you promise not to do it _ever again_. But…I can't…I can't forgive you if you say…you say you don't love me anymore. Tell me that you love me. Please, Mia…Tell me you love me…" She felt her throat choking up, her mascara running freely down her cheeks.

She couldn't say it. Because she didn't. Not fully anyway.

Was she still in love with Michael Moscovitz? The same man that had broken her heart six years before?

"I…"

"Do you love me?" Adam whispered.

"I…I don't love you," Mia said awkwardly, her nails digging into her thighs.

"You…you don't," Adam said in a flat voice.

"No…Adam…I am so sorry," Mia said, breathing heavily. "But I don't love you…I thought I did…I tried to believe that I loved you…but I don't…I can't…" She began sobbing, the loud, chokey sobs she despised so much.

"Mia. Please stop crying. It's okay," Adam said soothingly. That was Adam…always seeing the positive side in situations, even ones that ripped up his heart.

"No, it's not!" Mia yelled, albeit softly. "It's not okay! I cheated on you, Adam! I cheated on you with your fucking role model! It's not fucking okay!" Mia rarely swore, and never to Adam. He seemed taken back, by the way it was completely silent on the phone, with the exception of Mia's sobs.

After a few minutes, it was just completely awkward.

"So," Adam said softly. "What happens now?"

"I'll…I'll give you back your ring," Mia said gently.

"No, no. Keep it," Adam said. "Keep it and remember me, okay? And not in a bad way."

"You're not a bad person, Adam," Mia said. "You are one of the kindest, funniest people I know. I'll miss you."

"You make it sound like I'm dying," Adam said, chuckling lightly.

"I would hope not," Mia said.

"Well, I'll miss you too, Mia. I'll miss you so much."

---

The Journal of Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo

I did it. I told him. And now I'm completely sure that Satan is going to have dibs on me when I die. I still can't believe it. I cheated on Adam with Michael. And for some reason, now I don't regret it. Not one single bit. Because you know what?

I'm still in love with him. Not Adam. Michael. Always Michael.

But, somehow, I have a feeling that everything's more complicated than it seems.

---

It had taken him nearly two hours to find it but once he was there, he knew it hadn't been a waste of time. Michael stood in front of the small blue house with the unique parrot mailbox and felt instantly comforted. It smelled of pine outside, the air smelling strangely of cinnamon and cloves. He slowly walked to the front door, hesitant to knock. He saw a light on inside and knew that she was in there.

He knocked on the door, a small breeze flowing by. It took less than five seconds for the door to open.

"Um…hello. Wait…Michael? Michael with the friends from the Bluebird Lounge?" Jessica said, a smile on her face.

"Uh, yes. Michael with the friends from the Bluebird Lounge," Michael said awkwardly. "Wow. This is odd. I shouldn't have come. Sorry to have bothered you." He was about to turn around to leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and was face-to-face with Jessica.

"Don't leave," Jessica said kindly. "Come in and I'll make you tea or hot chocolate or something." Michael grinned.

"OK."

---

"So, why didn't you tell me you were in this uber-famous band?" Jessica questioned over a cup of hot tea.

"Well, I guess it was because—Hey, wait. How did you know that?"

"I don't live under a rock, Michael. I was minding my own business, standing in line at the grocery store when I saw the latest issue of Spin. And who should be on it but you? And that girl that was making out with that trashy guy. So, I bought the magazine and read the article. How was I to know that a random hot guy I met at a bar would turn out to be the lead singer for this world-famous rock band? Seriously. It doesn't happen every day."

"Ha, I guess not," Michael said, sipping his tea.

"So, why'd you choose to come over to my humble abode anyway? I can't imagine it's because you wanted to check out my parrot mailbox and steal my tea," She said, smiling.

"I wanted to take you up on your offer to hang out. And I needed to talk to someone," Michael said, adding, "And you're the only person I could think of."

"Oh, I'm touched. Over all of your close friends, you choose a complete stranger to share your thoughts with."

"Well. Yes. I guess so," Michael said, not catching her sarcasm.

"Happy New Year," Jessica said absentmindedly, stirring more sugar into her tea.

"What a way to start out the year," Michael said bitterly, drinking his tea slowly. "I succeeded in helping my ex-girlfriend cheat on her boyfriend."

"Oh. Wow," Jessica said, suddenly taking an interest. "This isn't the girl from the Bluebird—"

"No, no. It's another girl," Michael said. "We used to date when I was a senior in high school. Then I, uh, sort of dumped her after we had sex for the first time."

"You didn't," Jessica said, her mouth dropping open. Michael shyly nodded his head.

"My God, I'm such an idiot," Michael said. "Even more so now, it seems. And now I have no idea what to do. I think that I still love her, even after these six years apart. I love her even more now. But she has a boyfriend. Of course she does. And I have a…Shayne. A Shayne. But not really. I don't even like her. Not like that. It feels like high school all over again." He began rubbing his temples, a headache slowly forming.

"What do I do?"

"Well," Jessica said. "Does this girl know that you still love her?"

"No," Michael said almost immediately. "But she gives me these _looks_. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"Only too well. What can you do? Well, first of all: Tell her that you still love her."

"It's more complicated than that," Michael said sadly.

Jessica sighed softly. "It always is."


	16. all this masquerading's started my facad...

__

**Falling Away**

**chapter sixteen: all this masquerading's started my façade fading**

a/n: Haha, I know that kissing may not seem much of a big deal to you all but consider what kind of girl Mia is and you'll know why she made such a big deal out of it. Poor Adam. But, then again, maybe Adam isn't so innocent himself…

And, uh, you guys sure read carefully.

-

Michael sat on the edge of his bed, one of his acoustic guitars in his lap. He strummed a few chords, trying to find the right tune. This tour was officially beginning in two days and he was a nervous wreck. The tour was about to start and Michael had yet to perfect his cover of "Ballad of Big Nothing," an Elliott Smith song, that he was planning to play at some of the shows. He was to play all alone, only his guitar in hand.

_Throwing candy out to the crowd_

Dragging down the main

The helpless little thing with the dirty mouth

Who's always got something to say

You're sitting around at home now

Waiting for your brother to call

I saw him down in the alley

Having had enough of it all

He stopped playing, suddenly out of breath. Even after his long talk with Jessica, he was still feeling sad. Mia, the tour, his conscience…everything seemed to be nagging at him constantly. Why couldn't it all stop? Why couldn't he stop thinking about Mia and her sparkling gray eyes? Why was he constantly thinking about how soft her lips were, how she still smelled like flowers as she had so many years before?

The song had a lively, upbeat tempo but once you really listened to the lyrics, you saw how truly sad they really were. Probably not the kind of sad Michael was experiencing (as the song was about drug addiction and he rarely did any drugs…give or take a joint here and there) but he felt it strongly all the same.

_What are you going to do, Moscovitz?_ Michael rose from the bed, looking back once at his oddly shiny guitar. _What the hell are you going to do?_ He ran a hand through his dark curls, walking toward the door. He was about to open it when someone knocked on it. Michael stepped back, slightly surprised. He opened the door.

Michael rose from the bed, looking back once at his oddly shiny guitar. He ran a hand through his dark curls, walking toward the door. He was about to open it when someone knocked on it. Michael stepped back, slightly surprised. He opened the door. 

"Um, hey," Shayne said, standing in front of him. She smelled like honeysuckle and cigarettes. "Can I talk to you?" Michael nodded, letting her in. She smiled gratefully and he shut the door behind her. She walked to his bed and sat down, grinning slightly at the guitar on his bed. She looked back up at Michael with her shockingly blue eyes.

"I'm your fuck buddy," Shayne said slowly, clearly. Michael eyebrows raised. He walked closer to her.

"I've always been that one person you had no emotional attachment to but went to for sex. That's true, isn't it?"

Michael sighed, walking until he was right in front of her. He took her hands into his, a frown on his face.

What he said next she fully didn't expect.

"You're right, Shayne. I only used you for sex. I mean, you're a good friend and all but…I could never see us being anything more than that. I guess I was just in it for the physical gratification."

She looked up at him coldly. She took his hands from his, raised her right hand, and slapped him _hard _across his cheek. A surprised look clouded his face.

"Okay, I deserved that," Michael said after the initial shock wore off.

He guessed it wasn't a good time to tell her that her hooking up with Professor Snape hadn't made him jealous in the least.

"You, Michael Robert Moscovitz, are a complete and utter _asshole_," Shayne said, her voice a hushed, furious whisper. The harshness of her words didn't seem to affect him in the least. She looked at him with one last cold glare and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Michael sighed.

How in the hell would this tour work out?

-

Mia found herself in Barneys, a confused look on her face. _What am I doing here? _Mia asked herself. Michael's twenty-fourth birthday was on January 5th and the Glances and Stares tour was starting then too. She didn't quite know why she was buying Michael a gift. But she was. And she was hoping he'd like it.

What she didn't know was that Michael's assistant was also shopping for a gift, though not for Michael. Kate Harlow stood in front of the Rolex watches counter, looking for the one that would go with David's personality. David from Mission for Recognition. The same David that was supposedly madly in love with his long-term girlfriend.

It had begun as a friendship but had developed in so much more than that. It had started innocently enough: One day, Kate found David alone in Mission for Recognition's tour bus, close to tears. She had asked him what was wrong. His girlfriend had suddenly said that she never got to see him, that he was away all of the time. Which, of course, was true. His girlfriend had suggested that they break up.

"She can't do this to me," David had murmured softly, his eyes downcast. Kate had stepped forward, catching David in an embrace. What happened next was totally unexpected, totally wrong, and definitely amazing.

Their affair had been going on for some six months. Kate tried to forget the fact that David had a serious girlfriend (who, in the end, hadn't ended up breaking with him at all) when she kissed him or as he made a trail on kisses down her stomach. But it was slowly eating at her. But she liked him too much. She _loved _him too much.

Mia stood near Kate, totally oblivious to the people around her.

"Would he like that one?" Mia asked herself quietly, not even taking notice that most of the watches had leather bands. They were beautiful. Would he even want a watch? What would he want? No, make that what _could _he want? Michael, by now Mia was sure, was filthy rich. He could buy anything he wanted. Then what was the point of buying him something he might already own?

Mia's head hurt by the time she walked across from the watches into the vast men's section. Would he even want clothing? She was about to turn around to exit the store when she saw the most beautiful gray blazer. It had a very sexy rock-and-roll feel. It was perfect.

She looked through the rack and found one that looked approximately Michael's size. She felt the material, smiling to herself, almost carefully. It wasn't soft but wasn't scratchy, either. Was this too forward, buying a gift for her ex-boyfriend from six years before?

Mia walked to the nearest cashier, grinning.

"Hi," said the clean-cut, nice-smelling man behind the counter. "Is that all for today?"

"Uh, yes," Mia said.

"Did you have any trouble finding things?" He asked in a voice that suggested he had asked this question many, many times before.

"Oh. No," Mia said, looking down at the blazer. She handed the blazer to the cashier, whose name, judging from his name tag, was Jeremy. He scanned the blazer's tag, a cheesy smile on his face. He looked up into her eyes and his mouth became a perfect "O."

"Oh, my," He said, gasping. "You're Princess Amelia."

"…Yes," Mia said. "I am." She didn't say it matter-of-factly. She simply stated the truth.

"It's…it's such an honor to be selling you this blazer, Your Majesty," Jeremy said in his happiest voice, but even that sounded rehearsed. Fake.

Mia didn't quite know how to respond to this so she just smiled, waiting for him to tell her the total cost.

"That will be three-hundred and eighty-five dollars, fifteen cents, Your Majesty," Jeremy said. "Will you be paying by cash, credit card, or check?"

"Credit card," Mia said, handing him her American Express. The blazer was a bit steeper than she would've usually bought a semi-boyfriend but, she knew, it was worth it. The look on Michael's face would be enough. She just hoped, as any girl would, that the look wouldn't be one of pure revulsion.

Jeremy put the blazer into a bag for Mia.

"Would you like the receipt with you or in the bag, Princess?" Jeremy asked softly, adoringly.

"In the bag, please," Mia replied, looking at him oddly. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Your Majesty," Jeremy said.

"Mia," Mia corrected. "Just call me Mia."

"I'msorry, _Mia_."

He gave her the bag, a wide smile on his face. Mia took the bag and turned to leave when she ran right into Kate, whom was holding the same blazer Mia had just bought.

"Oh!" The women said at once.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," Mia said genuinely.

"Oh, no, no. It was my fault. I…I shouldn't have been standing so close to you," Kate said, sounding embarrassed.

"Really. I'm such a klutz sometimes," Mia said, a small smile appearing on her face. Kate looked at Mia a bit closer. She looked oddly familiar…

Mia looked at what Kate was holding and smiled. "Oh, I see that you're buying that beautiful blazer…I just bought one for my…" She paused, not knowing what to call Michael.

"Boyfriend," Mia finished, blushing slightly. "I'm sure whoever you're buying that for will love it."

"Thanks," Kate said brightly.

"Well, sorry again," Mia said.

"No problem," Kate said, clutching the blazer harder.

"Uh…bye," Mia said, and with a waggle of her fingers, she walked away.

Strange how people that are connected so closely don't even know it.

Mia stepped outside, the cold winter air hitting her face. She began walking right when she saw someone familiar walking toward her. When she got a better view of who it was, she nearly ran in the other direction.

Too bad he saw her before she could.


	17. with arms outstretched

__

**Falling Away**

**chapter seventeen: with arms outstretched**

**a/n: **Thanks for your reviews, my somewhat patient readers.

Hi, Ben. This chapter's for you.

The first show of the tour begins in this chapter. Excitement.

And I originally posted this chapter and the next chapter as the same...chapter. But now I've re-posted them separately so you don't have to read through a nearly 7,000 word chapter.

-

****

MISSION FOR RECOGNITION

The Fuzzy Unicorns

January 5th

7 p.m. Raydan Theatre 15 in advance, 17 at door

be there or be square, kids

-

Michael Moscovitz was walking toward her at an alarmingly quick pace.

Mia stuffed her Barneys bag behind her black coat, though it didn't help much to conceal it. He had probably already seen it, wondering why she was suddenly hiding her purchase. _Calm down_, Mia thought to herself, breathing in deeply. The icy air stung.

"Mia! Hey!" Michael exclaimed, waving a hand as he walked toward her, small gusts of air escaping his mouth. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his large coat weighing him down. His dark hair flopped boyishly over his eyes, a small grin on his face. His lips were bright red from the cold and it looked as if he were wearing lipstick. The sight of them, of him, made Mia's stomach flutter against her will. She hadn't seen him since two nights before, the night of Lilly's New Year's Eve party.

She managed to smile weakly when he finally caught up to her. "Hi, Michael," Mia said in what she hoped was a friendly voice.

"Hey," Michael said, breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow. "So…what are you hiding behind there?" He smiled kindly.

"N-Nothing," Mia said, her cheeks flushed. "Just something I bought for…" She paused. A dreadfully long pause.

"For…?" Michael prompted.

"Grandmere!" Mia exclaimed before she could stop herself. "Yes. Grandmere. Her birthday's coming up, you know…"

Michael shot her a bemused look. "I thought her birthday was in spring…"

"Oh! Well. Uh. Yes. It is. But I saw it and wanted to get it for her. It just, you know, screamed 'Grandmere.'"

Yes, because Grandmere would just love the gray men's blazer. She could wear it with her sequined fishnet tights.

Jesus Christ, Mia thought as the image of Grandmere in fishnets and the blazer popped into her head.

Michael laughed. "Yeah, I can only imagine. What is it? I promise I won't tell her if I happen to pass by her," Michael said, though this was unlikely. He had been there to witness Grandmere hitting the head of a bellboy at the Plaza when he failed to carry all eight of her bags on her way out of the hotel.

"Uh…it's a jacket," Mia said, telling the truth. Sort of.

"Oh. Rad," Michael said. "So, you're coming to the first show, right?"

"Yeah," Mia said. It seemed such a simple response, she felt she needed to add more. "Yeah. I can't wait. It should be fun. How many shows are you having around New York? I mean, I would've looked at the site but the dates hadn't been posted yet and do you know what the set list on Friday is going to be I mean I was just wondering and I just can't wait to see you guys and it's going to be your birthday you're turning twenty-four right how weird it seems just like yesterday you were eighteen I mean uh oh sorry." Mia noticed, her cheeks considerably redder, that she had been rambling.

"Breathe, Mia," Michael said. "Whoo-hee, whoo-hee." He added hand movements for effect.

"Oh, right," Mia said, managing the tiniest peep of laughter. He smiled kindly.

"I'll put you on the guest list so you can come backstage, okay?" Michael said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Okay," Mia said softly, her eyes cast downward.

"You look a little down," Michael said, encouraging conversation. "Hey…why don't you come with me to Serendipity 3? We can get a couple of frozen hot chocolates…" He paused for effect. Mia quickly contemplated whether she should go or not. One part of her was screaming for her to get back home as soon as possible. The other part screamed, "Go, Mia! GO!" She chose the latter.

"Sounds fun," Mia said, looking up at Michael.

The grin that he gave her in response made her heart turn.

-

Michael and Mia sat across from each other at a small table in Serendipity, a hamburger and ice cream parlor on East Sixtieth Street. Mia chose to avert her eyes from the many groups of children eating their hamburgers and hot dogs in an oddly disgusting manner. They had both ordered frozen hot chocolates, Michael's favorite dessert drink, which had arrived promptly, right after the awkward silence ended and before the awkward conversation began. 

"So," Michael said, dipping his spoon into the frothy drink. Mia found herself staring at his nicely full, pink lips as he put the spoon into his mouth. Michael didn't seem to notice though; at least, he acted as if he didn't notice. "What's been happening with you since…" He paused, suddenly realizing the thing he had been blocking out of his mind that entire day. They had kissed on New Year's. No, more than kissed. They had finally, after six long years, _connected_.

Mia noticed the pause and felt her cheeks grow warm.

"I've been…okay," Mia said, taking a sip of her frozen hot chocolate. The creamy drink and whipped cream splashed onto her upper lip, which she failed to notice. Michael looked at her and tried not to laugh. "And yourself?" He stared at her upper lip and pointed to his own subtly, hoping she'd get the hint.

She was confused as to why he was doing so but didn't want to embarrass him by saying anything.

"Uh, are you okay?" Mia said, a well-arched eyebrow raised.

"Mommy! Look at that girl's mustache!" A young boy with a sweater vest on exclaimed, pointing at Mia. The boy's mother pulled him away, blushing furiously. As they left, Mia heard her saying, "Now, Timmy, it's rude to point out other people's flaws…"

"Uh, I have a mustache?" Mia said, looking bemused.

"Well, sort of…" Michael said. He took his napkin and extended his hand across the table, wiping her upper lip. She felt a shiver run up her spine as he touched her. "Just some whipped cream." He offered a gentle smile.

"Oh," Mia said, her face burning. "Thanks."

"No problem," Michael said. "And I've been fine." _You've got that right_, Mia thought the moment these words left his lips. He looked straight into her gray eyes with his dark ones.

"What's up with you and Adam?…I mean, have you told him what happened on New Year's?"

"I…I did," Mia said.

"And…?"

"And…" Mia said, her voice a near-whisper. "We broke up."

"Oh," Michael said. "I'm sorry." If she had looked up, she would've noticed by the way that he was looking at her, he didn't mean his words at all. Not one bit. He searched her face for more answers but the sad look she held told him almost nothing. Truthfully, all he wanted to do at that moment was take Mia's hands in his and tell her that he could listen to her, take in her problems and make everything better.

When he had spotted Mia earlier, he had actually been on his way to get a gift for her, to make amends. He wanted to repair any damage he may have caused to her…to her heart.

"You're going out on tour," Mia said softly, a trace of a smile on her face. Michael was glad for the change of subjects. He looked down at Mia's hands, which were on the table around her frozen hot chocolate. She had always had nice, beautiful hands, if you were into that kind of thing. Her shortly cut nails were painted mauve shade that glowed golden under the overhead lights. Michael took in the sight of them. He had always been a hands person, rather than an ass or boobs kind of guy, though those were nice too.

"Am I?" Michael said, a smirk on his pale face. "I wasn't aware."

"Ha, ha," Mia said sarcastically. "How humorous you are."

"Are you questioning my sense of humor, Ms. Thermopolis?"

"Very possibly," Mia said, spooning the hot chocolate into her mouth. Michael marveled at the way she was so graceful now, much different from how she used to be (it didn't like to admit it, but she used to be the clumsiest person he knew). All of her actions were careful and thought-out, or so it seemed. He sort of admired this aspect of older-Mia. She was much like she used to be but was also quite different in certain ways. Funny how much people changed over a course of six years.

Also, funny how Mia had been thinking the same thing. To him, Michael hadn't changed much but Mia saw the difference in him in much of his movements, the way he spoke. He seemed much more cultured, as he had experienced many more things than he had at eighteen.

There was a certain level of comfort that stood between them, laced with the awkwardness of being exes. To any outsider, they may have appeared as a new couple. They had a well-established fondness but seemed uncomfortable at times.

After a few moments of silence, Michael looked down at his watch.

"Shit, I have to go," Michael said, biting his lower lip in a way that made Mia found, there was no other word for it, _cute_. He smiled his small, mysterious smile. Mia grinned back in the only way she could muster: shyly.

"It's just that I have to go meet up with the band," Michael said, feeling the need to explain himself. "We have to discuss the first couple of shows and plan set lists…stuff like that. I'd ask you to come along but it's just band business, you know?"

"Yeah," Mia said in an understanding voice. "Yeah. I'll just see you on Friday, I guess."

"Yeah, see you then," Michael said, nodding his head. "Remember to tell the ticket checker that you're with the band. Give security your name and they'll let you in backstage. It'll be wild." He drank down the rest of his frozen hot chocolate, afterward wiping his mouth with his napkin.

"Yeah," Mia said. "Wild."

"'Bye, then," Michael said. He rose from his seat, a crinkly smile on his face, and walked out of Serendipity 3.

What a name. Serendipity. Fate. Luck.

It couldn't just be a coincidence, them seeing each other and going to Serendipity.

Her mind pondered the possibilities. She was going to have to tell Michael how she felt sooner or later. After slowly finishing her frozen hot chocolate, Mia rose from her seat, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

She walked out, her stomach churning. She looked the way that he had headed and saw that he was already gone, completely out of sight.

Surely that couldn't be a sign.

Mia shook her head, frowning.

She was probably thinking too much.

-

MISSION FOR RECOGNITION Setlist

Live Like You Mean It

Darkest Rose

Empty Glances and Stares

Reoccurring Kind

Ballad of Big Nothing

The Nonexistent Girl Finds Her Way Back

Pessimistic Paranoia

I Wanna Sex You Up

Sailing Devendra

Look My Way

Falling Away

Wishing for Nothing

If You Mind

Ailing for Ailema

Keeping the Night

-

Soundcheck. Mission for Recognition stood on the large stage at Raydan Theatre, instruments in hand. The show was in exactly three hours and Michael felt his heart beating abnormally hard as he played the opening chords to "Reoccurring Kind." Their amazing friend, Sadie Jennings, was a filmmaker and would be going with them on the entire tour to film shows and fans. There was a possible DVD being made after the tour was over. They had also brought along Kristen's little sister, Anna, who was an aspiring photographer. In fact, her first job would be shooting the different shows on the tour along with Sadie.

Sadie stood at the back of the room, recording the soundcheck. She gazed at Shayne, almost longingly. Oh, her crush on Shayne had been going on for quite some time now, ever since she had first laid eyes on the Mission for Recognition bassist. Sa-woon.

"_When the fake green trees are whispering_," Michael sang into the microphone, his voice a soft growl. "_Your lies tangle like a web of memories._" His strumming slowed as he gasped out his words, his own voice singing back to him. "_I thought we were the kind. The reoccurring kind. Loving is so hard to do. Especially when it's always on my mind_." He paused before turning slightly, his eyes on Shayne. She had been watching him the entire time.

"_I don't love you_," He whispered and Shayne felt her heart twist. As soon as the music stopped, Michael looked forward once again and said to the sound manager, "The microphones could be a little louder. I need to be able to hear myself when I whisper."

"Yeah, okay," said Jasper, from behind the soundboard.

Michael took the guitar strap off from around the back of his neck and walked to the side of the stage, setting it down. The other members followed suit and walked backstage. As requested, their dressing room had been stocked with their favorite beers and wines and two bags of Sunchips.

"I can't believe we're actually having our first headlining tour," Kristen said, looking into the mirror. She applied some more mascara, her lips pursed. Her blonde hair fell in waves around her face, her bangs swept to the side. "It's really…happening."

"Yeah," David said, his mind not on the show that night but on Kate Harlow, their assistant. "It's surreal."

Michael stood in front of the mirror as he watched Shayne's reflection watching him. He raised an eyebrow and she looked away, her cheeks flushing. "Honestly," Michael murmured to himself, smoothing down his shaggy curls.

"Let's go get lunch or something," Max said. He was always thinking about two things: fucking and eating. A combination of the two would've been even better. "I'm starving."

"Yeah, me too," Shayne said, fluffing her hair. "Pizza?"

"Sure, sounds good," Kristen said, carefully smudging lipgloss onto her full lips. "And then we can just come back in an hour and a half, no problem." They all nodded in agreement and left the dressing room, except for Michael. His mind was on Mia, no use in denying that anymore. He thought of the way her lips curled up so perfectly when she grinned, the way her gray eyes flickered when she was excited about something. He would give anything to make her eyes glow because of him again.

Oh my Bob, I sound like a douche, He thought before exiting the dressing room. He saw that the group had already left the venue. He quickly ran outside and saw that the car was already driving away.

"Hey, wait up!" Michael yelled, running after it. Someone, Max probably, flipped him the bird.

"I'M ONLY THE FUCKING LEAD SINGER!"

-

_Breathe…calm down… _

Mia splashed cold water onto her face as she stood in her bathroom. The show was starting in two hours and doors were opening an hour before the show was to start. So she had a good forty-five minutes to get dressed and do her makeup and _calm down_. She was much too nervous. Much, much too nervous. She had no idea how the show would be (amazing, most likely), how she would react to anything Michael said. Or did.

She dried her face off with a clean towel. She looked up into the mirror and saw a twenty-one year old girl in front of her. She looked maybe three years younger than she was with her long blonde hair and somewhat big gray eyes. She felt that she was by no means beautiful. Cute, maybe, but never beautiful. It was a thing she longed for, to be considered beautiful. The desire had been stronger when she had been a teenager.

She gently dabbed concealer under her eyes and on the small zit on her forehead that she hoped wouldn't swell to enormous proportions as the night went on. She brushed powder onto her face and scanned her face in the mirror. She didn't look as flawed now. It amazed her how shallow she could be sometimes. This thought was quickly shaken off as she curled her eyelashes and lined her lower eyelid with black eyeliner. She brushed on two coats of mascara on each eye.

Now all she needed was some lip gloss and she was good to go.

And then she remembered she was still in her pajamas.

Mia walked out of her bathroom and dressed herself in the outfit she had planned the day before: a black skirt with polka dots, a white top that showed off what little assets she had, and a dark blazer. She slipped on her Converse high-tops and walked back to the bathroom.

She slicked on a sunny, golden pink gloss. She then brushed her hair. Mia walked out and saw that she still had at least fifteen minutes until she had to leave for Raydan. She sat down on her bed, next to Michael's wrapped gift, and felt her stomach twisting and turning. Why was she so nervous? She breathed deeply and petted Fat Louie, who had been laying on her bed.

Unusually enough, this did little to soothe her nerves.

-

"Oh, God, I think I'm going to throw up."

"Breathe, Max," Michael said patiently. "Breathe…Think of calming thoughts. Like, uh…candy canes. And marshmallow rabbits." Max began mumbling to himself, clutching his stomach. His face _did _look somewhat green.

"Michael…shut up," He managed to say. How odd it was that Mr. Confident was the only really nervous one of the group. The others were relatively calm. Or, at least, as calm as you could be before your first headlining show on your first headlining tour. "I knew I shouldn't have had that third slice of sausage pizza…"

"We're not even playing for another sixty minutes," David said, referring to the fact that there _were _the openers, an Arkansas band called The Fuzzy Unicorns. "The Fuzzy Unicorns play for a nice, long time. I'm sure you'll calm down by them. And please, don't throw up. I tend to follow by example…"

Shayne sat quietly in a chair in the corner, holding a bottle of ice cold beer. She wouldn't be able to make it through the night sober, she knew. Michael glanced at her every few minutes, well aware of how blatantly she was staring at him. He felt slightly creeped out.

"Fifteen minutes until the show starts," Their manager, Warren, said, popping his head into the room. "You're all going to go out to watch right?"

A chorus of "Yeah" ran throughout the room.

"Good. Make sure you don't get mobbed or anything. The venue's almost completely full."

"Awesome. Is it sold out?" Kristen said, grinning. Warren nodded his head and it suddenly disappeared into the other room.

Where's Mia? Michael thought, biting his lower lip.

She's supposed to be here… 


	18. you've got so much love locked up inside...

**__**

Falling Away

chapter eighteen: you've got so much love locked up inside you

-

"Name?"

"Uh," Mia said, fidgeting. "Mia Renaldo." The security guard looked down the list, an eyebrow raised.

"Your name isn't on the list."

"What?" Mia asked, a bemused look on her face. "Are you sure?" She nervously played with the present in her hands.

"Sure as pecan pie," He replied, chuckling.

"B-But…Michael said he would put me on the list," Mia said, murmuring to herself more than to Zac, or at least that's what his nametag said.

"Michael who?" Mia blushed.

"Mi—" She paused and suddenly there was someone behind Zac.

"Michael!" She said, almost bursting with relief.

"Is there a problem here, _Zachary_?" Michael asked with a smile.

"Girlie here ain't on the list," Zac said, a bored look on his ruddy face.

"You sure? I'm almost definitely sure I added 'Mia Thermopolis' onto the list."

"Mia Thermopolis?" Zac said, confused. "This girlie says she's Mia Renuto."

"Renaldo," Mia corrected. "Mia Renaldo."

"Oh, my mistake," Zac said in a superior voice. "Mia _Renaldo_. Mia Renaldo here says she's on the list, but she ain't."

"Let her in," Michael said in a bossy voice that nearly made Mia's knees turn into jello.

"Fine, fine," Zac said, rolling her eyes. "I don't want no trouble." He stood aside and with a small smile, Mia walked past Zac and followed Michael backstage.

"So," Michael said, turning to Mia. "Since when do you go by Renaldo?"

"Since college," Mia said. "Grandmere figured it was best if I went by my father's last name when I went to France."

"Oh, interesting," Michael said with a nod. "Well, I'll introduce you to the others."

"Okay," Mia said. She suddenly remembered the wrapped gift in her hands. "Uh, wait. Michael. I have something to give you." Michael looked down at the present in her hands and smiled.

"Something for me?" Michael said, his head tilted. "You shouldn't have."

Really. She shouldn't have.

"Oh, um, well, it's just something I picked up in Barney's the day we bumped into each other," Mia said, her eyes on the gift, which was wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper. She handed him the gift. "Happy Birthday." He looked at her, confused at first.

"Holy shit," Michael said, his eyes wide. "It's my birthday."

"Um, yeah?"

"It's just…The band and I've been so busy that I forgot about my _own fucking birthday._" Michael was amazed. He had lived for stuff like his birthday when he had been younger. And now he let it slip by until it was nearly over.

"And you lied! Lies, lies…"

"I did?" Mia asked.

"Indeed. Something for your grandma?"

"Oh, right," Mia said, blushing.

"Well, thank you for the gift. He smiled warmly before peering down at the present and carefully peeling off the wrapping paper. His gift was in, who would've thunk it, a Barneys box. He set the wrapping paper down before opening the box and gasping softly.

"Wow," Michael said, running his fingers along the fabric of the blazer.

"It's just that I, well, I saw it and thought, 'Wow, that just screams Michael!' so I got it and I really did think it looked like it was made for you you know what I mean and it was just so beautiful and I just _had _to get it," Mia said, her cheeks redder than they had been in a long, long time.

"Thank you," Michael said. "I'll wear it while we perform. It's…perfect."

"Oh," Mia said. "Oh. I'm glad that you like it."

"I love it, Mia," Michael said, grinning broadly. "I really do. Thanks." He set the box down and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her. Mia felt her whole body tense as she was enveloped with the scent of Michael, the warmth of his body colliding with hers. He smelled so nice, like Ivory soap, that she nearly kissed his neck, though that would've been sort of strange. Instead, she settled with his neck write in her face, his hair gently brushing against her face. When he stepped back, Mia felt so, so, disappointed.

He then picked the blazer up from out of the box and slipped it on. It looked even better on him than it had by itself.

"See? Perfect," Michael said, a bright smile on his face. All Mia wanted to do at that moment was lean forward and kiss him. She refrained, though hesitantly.

"Yeah," Mia said, looking up into Michael's peat bog eyes. "Perfect."

-

"Show starts in five," Warren said, popping his head into the dressing room once again. A confused look appeared on his face when he saw Mia sitting beside Michael, a scowl of Shayne's face. "Who's the broad?" Kristen glared at Warren.

"Warren. You may as well have called her a fucking chick," Kristen said bitingly. "_Honestly_."

The band had been sitting around in the dressing room as usual. The moment Max saw Mia enter the room with Michael, he whispered out of the side of his mouth to David, "I guess we're going to have to cancel the stripper." The band had yet to say anything about Michael's birthday because, of course, they had a surprise lined up during the show. Not even Warren knew about it.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Warren said, rolling his dull, dark eyes. "Who is she, anyway?" Before Michael could open his mouth to respond, Mia rose from the couch she had been sitting down and quickly strode over to Warren, extending her hand out to him.

"I'm Princess Amelia of Genovia," Mia said, the biggest smile she could manage on her face. "But most people just call me Mia." Good thing she couldn't see Shayne at that moment, as she was mocking Mia, mouthing what she had just said in a mocking way as Kristen chuckled.

"Well, well, we've got royalty," Warren said, the closet thing to a smile on his face. More of a trace of a smile. A smirk, even. "Welcome, Princess Amelia." He then turned to the bandmates. "Get your asses out there and support your Ar-Kansas friends. Okay?"

"Uh huh, whatever, Warry," Shayne said, heading toward the door with Max and Kristen right behind her.

"I, uh…I need to go talk to Kate. You know where she is, Warren?" David asked from the chair he was sitting on.

"She's out by the front," Warren said. "She's talking with Jenna."

"J-Jenna?" David asked, noticeably gulping. His girlfriend, Jenna, was there?

"Yeah. You know. You're _girlfriend_?"

"Right," David said. He got up from his seat and quickly followed after Shayne and the others.

"What about you, Mike?" Warren said. "You and the Princess going out. Or, uh, shall I leave you two alone?" He flashed Michael a knowing look that made Mia squirm.

"No, no," Michael said. "We're going out too."

"Okay, I'll see you all out there." He left promptly. Michael turned to Mia, that ever-present grin on his face. The same smile that made Mia swoon every time he showed it to her, whether he be happy or just amused at something she said or did. It was an amazing smile that made her heart tug in the best possibly way, as tacky as that may have sounded.

"Ready to go?" Michael asked. "Do you want a drink or something?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay. Let's go, then."

-

The Fuzzy Unicorns, the opening act, were nothing like Mia had expected. They were a dancing band, as in they played pretty, dreamy rock music but also had a couple of people that danced: a tap dancer (he danced along with the drums) and an interpretive dancer. They also had both a ukulele player and a tambourine player, nine people in the band overall. They sang about drunken children and lambs that didn't eat ham. There motto, their signature saying, was "We put the FU back in fun!" for Bob's sake.

Fifteen minutes before The Fuzzy Unicorns' set was to end, Mission for Recognition found each other and headed backstage. They had just about enough time, including the time after the Fuzzy Unicorns' set to fancy themselves up and tune their instruments. Oh, and to get as drunk as possible, of course.

"God, I'm so nervous," Shayne said, tipping beer into her mouth. Kristen nodded, applying more eyeliner than was necessary as Max watched in fascination. He had taken much less time to apply his makeup than Kristen was taking, though he only put on eyeliner and some lipgloss.

"Hey, Mia, do you want to watch from the side stage or go out into the audience? I'm sure Zac can push past people if you want to get up front," Michael said, buttoning and unbuttoning the top button of his blazer repeatedly. She could tell that he was pretty nervous as well, though she wondered why. Mia had already seen Michael perform onstage twice and both times he had appeared cool and confident.

"Nervous?" Mia said, taking her cherry chapstick out from one of the pockets in her blazer. She noticed him staring at her lips as she slowly applied it.

"N-No," Michael said, stuttering. Lies.

"You sure?" Mia said, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," Michael said, looking down.

"Okay. I think I'll go out into the audience. It might give me a more real concert experience, you know?"

"Yeah, sounds rad," Michael said, clearing his throat. He mentally shouted at himself. He was so bad at lying. He was nervous as hell and he didn't know if he'd be able to get through the night sober. He was anything but calm. So fidgety he was at the thought. The crowd was large. Large crowds always made him somewhat jittery.

"We are the Fuzzy Unicorns," said one of two singers for the eclectic band. "We'd just like to thank Mission for Recognition for taking us out on this tour. And, uh, they'll be on really soon. So, um, thanks!" Michael heard the audience applaud and holler occasionally. But it was pretty obvious even just hearing them. They were waiting for Mission for Recognition to take the stage.

"Okay, Mia, you should go out there now," Michael said. "And, well, I guess I'll talk to you after the show." He awkwardly took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. Mia felt taken back by the subtly affectionate gesture. She nodded and waved goodbye, walking out from backstage.

Mia noticed that the venue was, there were no other word for it, _pretty_. It wasn't dirty like many other venues in New York but seemed strangely clean. Shimmering chandeliers hung overhead, providing light. They dimmed once performers stepped onstage. She soon reached the audience and gently pushed her way to the front.

"Step off, bitch," said one particularly feisty man she pushed away.

"Oh, sorry."

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?" said another concert-goer with a Mission for Recognition shirt on. _That _guy.

"Sorry, sorry."

She eventually made her way to the front, to the anger of many. She managed to get a relatively good spot, near the front. She was near enough that Michael would be able to see her.

"OMIGOD! I can't _believe _we're at a Mission for Recognition show, Tif!" screamed a girl that appeared to be about thirteen, at most. "Michael Z is sooo hot. Gawd, I so dare you to shout that you want to fuck him when they get on stage. Seriously."

"Nooooo. Gawd, I could never do that. He'd think I'm some kind of freak, even if I _do _want to do him," The girl beside her responded. They began giggling. Both girls were wearing obscene amounts of body glitter, which made Mia cringe. Tiffany, Mia noticed, was also wearing a hot pink shirt that said in bold black letters, _HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MICHAEL!_

"Aren't you two a little young to be thinking about fucking someone. And, of all people, Michael Z?" A guy that stood close to them said.

"Dude, I so lost my virginity last year so I don't think you should be saying shit about how we're too young to be talking about fucking, mmkay? Gawd. Eavesdropper." At being so rudely talked to, the guy turned away and resumed talking to a girl with blue hair and multiple piercings.

What a crowd.

A few minutes later her spirits lifted when she saw Shayne and Max walk onstage. The crowd, noticing this, cheered loudly. "I love you, Shayne!" some random girl shouted. Shayne walked to a microphone, a smile on her face. "I love you too!" She said cheerfully, looking much different than she had in the dressing room. Happier. She wore a "Free Winona" shirt, which was exposed as she slipped off her coat and threw it out into the crowd. A man five feet behind Mia caught it and immediately snuggled against it.

Next onstage appeared Kristen, followed soon by David. No Michael. Kristen sat behind her drums, biting her lower lip in a perfectly sweet, innocent way. She waved to Mia from behind her drums enthusiastically. Mia just as enthusiastically waved back.

The band began setting up their instruments, a microphone checker saying, "Uno, dos, tres, catorce!" into each one to make sure they were full-functioning. Still no Michael. After a few minutes passed, the band began playing the introduction to "Live Like You Mean It." They had been playing the song live for quite some time so it was familiar to many, though it wasn't on the album. An eruption of whoops and cheers filled the air.

Just a few seconds before Michael was supposed to sing the first line in the song, one of their most popular, he ran out onto the stage at an alarmingly fast speed and ran right into Max, who seemed surprised but laughed. As soon as the crowd saw Michael, the cheers grew much louder. Michael walked over to his microphone, looking like he was limping almost and belted out the first line with his signature growly voice.

_I want to pick you up and dust you off _

_I want to take you down and dress you up_

_And we will drink, and drink, and drink_

_Drink, drink, drink, drink it up_

_One hundred bands, one thousand love affairs_

_Half-empty halls and folding chairs_

_And the best ever guitar parts are made for broken hearts_

Shayne began singing along in her raspy voice.

_The records we could make and break _

_The Hell that we could raise, for Heaven's sake_

_There's so much you could feel if you_

_Live like you mean it_

_Live like you mean it_

Max played the universally loved guitar solo he had in the song, playing it with more enthusiasm than he had ever had before. He played with such flair, such energy. It was so hard to keep your eyes off him. He was _that _good.

_The records we could make and break _

_The Hell that we could raise, for Heaven's sake_

_There's so much you could feel if you_

_Live like you mean it_

_Live like you mean it _

The second the band stopped playing, the audience went crazy. Mia had felt several people bumping into her throughout the song and when she had turned around, she had been amazed to see so many people dancing along. She hadn't ever really deemed Mission for Recognition's music dancey but she supposed it was in a way. Maybe.

"Shut up, you fuckers!" Michael shouted playfully. The people around her laughed, as if what he had just said was the funniest thing they had ever heard. _Ever_. But, at the request of _Michael Z_, the crowd quieted down considerably.

"So, what did you all think of the Fuzzy Unicorns?" Michael said into the microphone, an almost creepy grin on his face.

"Fucking amazing!" screamed the guy that Mia recognized as one of the singers in the Fuzzy Unicorns.

"Eh, they were all right," Shayne said into her microphone.

"Hey, Michael!" yelled a female voice in the back.

"Mm, yes?" Michael said, running a hand through his hair.

"I WANNA FUCK YOU!"

"Really? Take a number, will you?" Michael's cockiness onstage made Mia wonder where it came from.

Michael turned his head and mouthed, "Darkest rose" to his bandmates.

He turned back, facing the audience. They watched in anticipation of what was coming next. The audience members that were seeing MfR for the first time were shocked at was happening at the show. Surely they couldn't have expected what was happening. The MfR show veterans knew what to expect but even they were surprised sometimes. Michael Z was unpredictable like that.

"This song is dedicated to…people," Michael whispered loudly into his microphone. "It's a song about…unrequited love." He took his microphone off of the stand and began walking around the stage, circling his bandmates. "I'd like to dedicate this song to Gwen Brody." Several boos rang out around the room, mostly from the female audience. "I'd like to dedicate this song to Kate Harlow. This song is dedicated to Ben Tyler, our lovely fan club president. This song is dedicated to Professor Snape. This song is dedicated to…" He finally looked into the audience and the first person he saw, the only person that mattered, was her.

"_You_…" Mia nearly stopped breathing when she found Michael's eyes on her. She then realized the word was the beginning to "Darkest Rose," her favorite Mission for Recognition song.

"_…are never dead when you're dead. You're never dead when you're sleeping. You make it so hard to love but not impossible. Never impossible…_" Mia was unaware of the people around her, the people in front of her. All she cared about, all she could focus on was Michael singing seemingly to her. He kept his eyes on her, never breaking their eye contact. It sent chills up Mia's spine, the way he was looking at her. He looked like he was in love with her.

"_If your eyes should ever rain, I'll be the one to catch your tears._"

And she knew he meant it.

A couple of songs later, right after their surprise performance of Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up" Michael opened his mouth to address the crowd. But before he could say anything, Max interrupted him.

"As you may all know," He said, smiling. "Today is our little Mikey's twenty-fifth birthday! Woo." The crowd cheered more than was necessary. Michael gave Max a confused look and Max simply waved him off.

"So, this is the time to sing him 'Happy Birthday'! On the count of 1…2…3!"

The volume of the crowd's drunken singing caught Michael off-guard.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR FUCKIN' HOT MICHAEL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"

"_You look like a monkey and you smell like one too_," Max whispered into the microphone, grinning jubilantly.

"Um, thanks, everyone," Michael said, Mia noticing how completely red he was. Michael blushing? He never blushed. Absolutely never. Only, of course, when he was put on the spot. _Then _he blushed.

"That's not all, Mikey Z!" Kristen chirped into her microphone, her head cocked. "We got you GIFTS!"

"Gifts?" Michael said, suddenly looking pleased.

They all, excluding Michael, went backstage and soon returned with, sure enough, wrapped presents.

Kristen gave hers to Michael first, saying in a baby face, "Now who's my favowite birthday bwoy! YOU ARE!" She pinched his cheeks in a very grandmotherly fashion. Michael swatted her gently, biting his lip. He opened the present and smiled when he saw the Tickle-Me-Elmo Kristen had given him. He walked over to his microphone and squeezed the Elmo. He let out an automated giggle that was louder than was natural.

"Thanks, Kristen," Michael said. "I'll keep him close to me at all times."

"Ooh, ooh! Me next! Me next!" Max exclaimed, pushing past Shayne, who glared at him menacingly. He shoved his gift into Michael's arms with a giggle and proceeded to run into Kristen. Michael quickly unwrapped the present.

"A hair straightener?" Michael said, confused.

"The band and I thought it was about time you started straightening your hair," Max said loudly. "It sucks!" The audience, as any normal audience was, stood, bemused.

"WHAT? My hair is fucking awesome, dude," Michael said, rolling his eyes.

It was going to be a long night.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah…it's just that it's getting late and…" Mia said, though she would've given anything to stay, to just be near Michael. But if she stayed any longer, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to control herself. She paused, searching for an answer. They stood backstage in the dressing room while the other Mission for Recognition band members stood out front, near the merch table. Kate had been manning the tables all night while Jenna, David's girlfriend, stood nearby. They had managed not to see each other though, oddly.

"I'd really like you to stay," He spoke softly in a very familiar voice, the voice he had used the night they had their true feelings for each other six long years ago. "Are you sure you can't stay?"

"Yes. I'm really sorry, Michael," Mia said, her eyes downcast. "I'd stay if I could."

"I know," He said and with this, he took both of her hands in his. Mia slowly looked up and melted at the look on his face, the look that suggested she'd do something else, not leave.

"I…I…" Mia began but before she could continue, Michael had stepped forward, bending his head down. His lips met hers in perfection. Slow, soft perfection. It felt even better now than it had just days before because she wasn't attached now, there were barely any guilty feelings holding her down.

Mia put her hand on the back of Michael's neck, deepening the kiss. His hands ran up the length of her body, meeting her blonde hair. Several moments later, Michael pulled away from the kiss, though reluctantly.

"Come with us," He gasped, lip gloss smeared all over his mouth and chin.

"What?"

"Come with us. On tour. Come with us," Michael said. "Please, Mia. I couldn't stand being away from you for so long. Please say you'll come with us."

Before she could control herself, she said the words Michael wanted to hear.

"Okay. I'll go out on tour with you. But how would that work? Where would I sleep?" He looked her straight in the eye.

"With me."

I'll be damned if that didn't have any sexual undertones.

-

**a/n: **The song "Live Like You Mean It" is actually by a very wonderful band called The New Trust. You should go check them out, along with The Velvet Teen.


	19. we were bound to bend the rules

**__**

Falling Away

chapter nineteen: we were bound to bend the rules

a/n: Thank you.

Oh, and the "one, two, three, fourteen" thing is from "Vertigo" by U2, yo.

-

It had been three hours since the concert had ended and Mia's heart was still racing a mile a minute. It was relatively early, only about one in the morning, and Mia was wide awake. The night's events continued to thrill her, shock her, and play through her mind. Mia's headphones rested on her ears, Mission for Recognition's album playing loudly. She laid on her bed, looking up at her ceiling. She couldn't get the image of Michael practically humping his microphone stand during "I Wanna Sex You Up" out of his mind, the dedications during "Darkest Rose," the way he had looked at her when he had leaned in to kiss her. Her head was still spinning and quite honestly, she didn't mind much.

The guitar riff that began "Aiming for Ailema" suddenly filled her ears. She had been meaning to ask Michael ever since she had accidentally read "Ailema" backwards and saw what it spelled. Amelia. Her name. Surely it wasn't a coincidence. No, there was no chance that it was just a coincidence. He had done it on purpose, she knew. The lyrics told a story of a guy yearning for the one that had gotten away so many years before. As she really began to read into the lyrics, Mia realized that at least three-fourths of the songs on Mission for Recognition's album were about, well, _her_. It wouldn't have been obvious to anyone else, give or take a few of their high school friends, that they were about her and they were.

He had missed her every bit as much as she had missed him, maybe even more.

"Wishing for Nothing" told the story of a "_rocky_" relationship between a mother and her son with a sister that wanted only the best for her brother. Little jokes that Mia and Michael had shared were carefully laced into the lyrics so they were also somewhat vague, so you couldn't be completely sure about what you might think they were about. That's what Mia had always loved about Michael's lyrics. He divulged so much information but also kept many things a secret, unclear. It was the way she had always wanted her writing style to be like, even though she had always planned to write a novel. She had originally planned, at fifteen, to finish a novel within five years. That obviously hadn't happened, as she was already twenty-one and had only a little less than a full novel finished. She didn't feel much inspiration to write this particular novel anymore, as the story didn't seem to excite her anymore.

She had started her current novel when she turned seventeen. It was about a teenaged girl living in New York with her father and stepmother. She goes to a private high school and has the largest crush on her best friend's cousin. Okay, so maybe it was sort of autobiographical. It was her novel and she could do as she pleased, damn it.

Just hours before, after they had kissed, they had discussed briefly what would be happening. Michael said that he would call her later in the morning to tell her where to meet with the band and depart on the bus for Boston later that day. He told her to pack maybe a suitcase and a bag full of clothes and plenty of underwear (at which she blushed). She had planned to start packing later in the day but now she was too filled with energy to just lay there. She needed to do something. She took off her headphones and turned off her CD player, sighing.

The moment Mia opened her closet to get her suitcase, she suddenly had a sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. What in the world was she doing? She was never this spontaneous and suddenly she was going on tour with her _ex-boyfriend's band_. She hadn't even told her mother, least of all Grandmere. How would they react? Her mom would probably be excited, as she had always liked Michael. Grandmere would most likely choke on the Sidecar she was likely to be drinking and ask her why she would even think that she would even be allowed to go across the country with _that boy_. Surely the Princess of Genovia couldn't suddenly disappear with a world-famous rock group. It was almost unheard of. Actually, it _was _unheard of.

But hey, Mia was different. But, Mia couldn't help thinking, Grandmere was unlikely to go with that argument.

Mia took one of her suitcases from out of her closet and lugged it over to her bed. She opened it and set it out on her bed. The first thing she saw was a small note tucked into one of the pockets, something she had forgotten to take out of the suitcase. Curious as to what it read, Mia unfolded the letter and read.

Mia, 

By the time you read this we'll already be in New York, living it up (ha ha), I'm sure. I can't believe I'm finally going back to my, well, homeland…the place where I was born. It's going to be so exciting, I just know. I just wanted to thank you for coming back to America with me. You're my best friend, you know that? You're my confidante, the one person I can go to and share my feelings and troubles with. And I love you for that, for being such a good friend. Here's to exploring America and mingling with the natives, yeah?

Love,

Adam

Mia's heart just about died as she read the letter that she had failed to notice when she had been unpacking weeks before. This was a letter, written neatly in Adam's beautiful handwriting, Adam had written to her just days before they had set off for America, judging by the date on it. He must've slipped it into her suitcase when she hadn't been looking. How were they to know what would happen once they actually arrived in the States?

She folded the letter back into its original state and dropped to the floor, lifting up the bed's curtain. She placed the letter along with the rest of her Adam mementos. Photographs, letters, CDs (except, of course, for the Mission for Recognition CD)…Nearly everything he had given her was hidden under her bed. She probably wouldn't be seeing him for quite awhile. And, honestly, she missed him. Platonically, of course. But he was still one of her best friends and she loved him for that.

Mia stood back up and walked over to her drawers to look for clothes to pack. Luckily for her, Frank had done the laundry the night before so all of her clothes were clean and fresh, ready to go. _I'm really doing this_, Mia thought as she looked through her drawer of shirts, searching for the ones that she thought might be appropriate for the tour.

Or, in other words, the shirts that best accentuated her recently acquired assets.

After looking through her shirts (and, in all, packing twelve…surely that couldn't be enough), she looked through her jeans and pants. It took her over an hour to pack everything she felt she needed. She would pack her toiletries later, she supposed. Mia zipped her suitcase and carried it over by her door. She proceeded to walk back to her bed, turn off her lamp, and collapse into bed.

She fell asleep, her hands against her heart.

-

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"_Yes_," Michael said impatiently, emphasizing the word more than needed. His bandmate surrounded him on both sides, Warren Zevon standing directly in front of him.

"You are _not _taking your goddamned girlfriend on tour with us," Warren hissed, spit flying onto Michael's face. A disgusted look on his face, he wiped Warren's spit off of his cheeks.

"She's not my girlfriend," Michael Z said in an equally annoyed voice. "And she _is _coming with us. You better remember this Warren: You can't have a band without a lead singer. And I just happen to be that fucking lead singer. Are we clear?" An angry look flashed in Warren's eyes, his hands on his hips.

"Crystal," Warren said, storming out of the room.

"Fucking Hell, Michael," Max said, looking disgruntled. "We're going out on tour. What would Mia do all day?"

"I thought you all liked Mia," Michael said, sounding almost hurt. He carefully avoided looking at Shayne when he said this. "If you all were faking it last night, I must commend you on your great acting skills." He rolled his eyes, looking away.

"Well, _I _liked her," Kristen said helpfully. "She seemed really nice."

"Thank you," Michael said, smiling gratefully. "But honestly, she isn't particularly loud and she can just sleep with me in my bunk." His eyes flashed to Shayne almost unknowingly. He felt bad at the look he had created, the look of betrayal and hurt that appeared in her eyes.

"Eh," David said, his eyes not on Michael but on Kate Harlow, whom was across the room, talking away on her cellphone, a large grin on her face. David felt his heart flutter but instantly felt guilty, as his girlfriend was arriving in a matter of minutes to say goodbye before she went off to Asia. The night before, Kate had given him a gorgeous blazer after his girlfriend had left and people had been clearing out of the venue. Sadly, David recognized the blazer as the same blazer Michael had been wearing throughout the show, the same blazer he was wearing at this moment. Surely it was a coincidence that they had both gotten the same blazer. From two different people, he was sure.

Right?

"I take that as a yes," Michael said. Their bus would be leaving in nearly forty-five minutes and Michael had chosen to spring the news of Mia coming along at the absolute last minute. Because he was awesome like that. "Anyway, I told her to come in a half hour so you had all better be on your _best behavior_." He emphasized these last two words, sounding as close to a schoolteacher as was possible.

"Oh, God, Michael," Kristen said. "Do we really embarrass you that much?"

He ignored her.

---

"Mia!"

Mia's cheeks flushed pink at the sight of Michael, the way he said her name. He stood in front of the bus, his hair flopping in an impossibly _cute _way over his eyes. He raised a hand, a small, somewhat mysterious smile on his face. His lips looked bright red in the cold and Mia, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to jump him and kiss those soft, red lips.

But she needed to remain composed. Princesses, after all, rarely jumped other people. Right?

"Hey," Mia said, walking closer to him. He looked so happy at seeing her it practically made her heart melt.

Before she could stop herself, she kissed his cheek. The biggest smile appeared on his face.

"Okay, well, let's go put your bags inside," Michael said. "And then I'll give you the grand tour around the bus. Sound good?" Mia nodded, her head tilted. He took hold of her suitcase and her bag. He seemed to be carrying them easily, as easily as you could with a suitcase stuffed with at least fifteen T-shirts.

He led her toward the bus. Off by the back of the bus she saw the rest of Mission for Recognition.

"Hey, Mia!" called out Kristen, waving enthusiastically. Mia grinned, waving back with almost as much energy. She noticed, somewhat sadly, that Shayne was giving her an _extremely _dirty look. The moment she looked at her again, though, Shayne had resumed talking to David.

Mia stepped onto the bus, after Michael. It was a rather big bus, bigger than she had thought. Michael turned his head, his eyes bright.

"Wait here for a second." Mia nodded, smiling almost shyly.

Michael walked to the bus, to the bunks, she presumed. He came back a few seconds later.

"Well, where you're standing is where Bob, our bus driver, well, drives. He's usually nice unless you call him out on his Disney obsession. _Then _he can get a tad bitchy…" Seemingly without thinking about it, Michael held his hand out to Mia. They hadn't held hands in so, so long. She stared at his large hand for a few moments before taking it. His hand closed over her smaller hand, somewhat rough or somewhat smooth. Perfect.

Michael walked up the steps that led to the central part of the bus. "This," Michael said in a sudden newscaster voice, "is where we mostly just sit around, get drunk, get naked…You know. All of that normal stuff."

"Over there," he said, pointing at a small table, "is where we eat. Well, it's not exactly big enough for all of us to eat at, so sometimes some of us eat on the couches or something. But, really, the only meal we eat on the bus is breakfast, since we're always traveling and restaurants are fun and all." He walked over the small refrigerator and opened it.

"Well, we've your basics, your essentials: beer, soy milk, beer, mustard, and…beer," he said with a tiny chuckle.

"Well, uh, at least you've got soy milk."

"I swear we're not alcoholics," Michael said, squeezing Mia's hand. He took her to the sliding door that held the toilet and sink. "And here is where we do our business. The toilet isn't for any, um, fecal matters. If you've got to do that sort of shit, pun intended, Bob will probably stop somewhere."

Yes, she definitely needed to know this.

"Okay, enough of that," Michael said. "Let me show you the sleeping quarters…" He walked past the bathroom and the next room held six bunks, one for each member and one for Bob. "I know, very exciting. Here is where we sleep, have nightly talks, the usual. I sleep on the bottom. Max claimed the top bunk before I could say anything. But, hey, at least I won't fall out suddenly in the middle of the night." Michael pushed back the curtain and showed her his unmade bunk. She noticed that there was a TV at the edge of the bunk.

"Oh, the record company put those in," Michael explained, seeing where her eyes had landed. "I think that's about it. So, what do you want to do now? Play Scrabble? Drink beer? Hav—" Mia put her index finger to his soft lips, a gesture that instantly quieted him.

She took both of his hands into hers, stepping forward.

"Well," Mia said, her eyes looking down. "I was thinking that we could…" Her gray eyes drifted upward and met Michael's dark brown eyes, his beautiful peat bog eyes.

"Yeah?" Michael said, his voice suddenly caught up.

"Do…this…" Mia said, pinning him against the wall. She put his hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head down. Her lips met his, an instant smile appearing on his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He kissed her in a soft, gentle way, planting tiny little baby kisses on her mouth. She found the whole thing rather endearing. Only he could make her feel the way she felt now.

Alive.

---

A/N: Not much in that chapter, just some getting reacquainted…you know. Review?


	20. who will cut our hair when we're gone?

**So sorry, so selfish**

I've decided to officially retire from writing fan fiction. I'm aware that this isn't a chapter and technically, these aren't allowed. I just wanted to inform you all that _Falling Away _will have to stop here as I am just over writing fan fiction. It's been a good two years (I know, I suck at updating) and I want to thank you all for reading my stories and leaving your lovely comments. Who knows? I might come back sooner or later and finally finish _Falling Away_. But, for now, it'll have to remain unfinished and for that, I sucksucksuck. Thanks for reading and hopefully enjoying my stories. I've enjoyed all of yours.

EDIT: Yesss. Because telling me that I suck and that I'm selfish is really going to inspire me to continue writing.


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